Locked
by Smidgett
Summary: Bechloe FBI AU. Chloe Beale is a newly appointed FBI Agent to an undercover operation. Beca Mitchell owns a successful club that is a hive for criminal activity that Beale has been assigned to infiltrate. Rated T could become M in later chapters. I do not own any of the characters in Pitch Perfect. Bechloe End game.
1. Chapter 1

Chloe fidgeted with the rim of her worn paper cup, staring down the dregs of coffee at the bottom. Leaning back into the cheap plastic chair she sat in, she went over the decisions in her mind that had led her to this point. Regret ate at her insides, and she contemplated the battle between two of her passions. Currently, she was faced with the turmoil of her work mixed with her relationships. Well, her relationships were sort of always her job. Her assignment. The first rule of being undercover is to not get attached to your "assignment." To compartmentalize. Understand to keep your personal feelings separate from your professional ones. But Chloe hadn't really been one to keep her desires in check. Her mother had always complimented the power of Chloe's passions from since she was a little girl. When she was five, and Chloe had heard the sounds of Donnie Ellert being picked on outside through an open window, she immediately leaped into action. She abruptly dropped the crayon she was coloring with, abandoning her project, and fearlessly rushed out the door to confront the bullies. That was where it had started.

Her mother had recanted that anecdote numerous times, particularly in relation to Chloe's newest occupation. She described Chloe's passions as if they were rampant horses that couldn't be bridled even if she tried. In hindsight, Chloe believed she probably shouldn't have taken the career path that she did, but at the time she had sincerely believed that becoming a cop would help people to take her more seriously. An attempt to harness her vibrant desires, and channel them for the greater good. So why did she feel that wasn't the case now? She stooped forward and placed the used cup on the floor, glancing at her partner before pulling at her red and black buffalo check button-down and settling back. That was one of the benefits of being undercover, she could wear whatever she wanted. She didn't miss the uniform.

The advancement of her position from cop to agent had happened far quicker than she had expected it to. She had become quite comfortable in her day to day life of highway duty, filing reports, and late-night patrols, but as time passed her passions of catching criminals expanded and she wanted more. She grew restless in what became mundane activities, so when the chance came to advance her position to Agent earlier that year, she had promptly jumped at the opportunity. Not she didn't think that being a cop wasn't important, protecting the public should never be underrated, but she always felt she could do more. And now, staring at the cold cement ground of an abandoned warehouse in a beaten-up chair, she wondered what would have happened if she had settled.

"You alright?"

 _No._

Chloe glanced over at her partner who was looking at her questioningly from an adjacent chair with a hint of concern. Swanson was a nice guy, he understood the urges that drove her to achieve her goals. He got her and tried to help her understand the reality of the criminal world in an attempt to guide her in some way. Honestly, sometimes she thought he worried a bit too much. She always hated how he could tell when she was feeling a bit off.

"Yeah, let's just get this over with."

He gave her an imploring look and they both stood from their chairs. Swanson took the lead down a deserted hallway, and they approached a heavy metal door that led to a storage closet. Chloe reached for the handle, fingers slightly shaking with her other hand at her holster. Swanson grasped her forearm reassuringly, and pulled her back.

"I know this is hard, but we have to get this information. Too much is at stake."

"I know."

"The mission always comes first."

"I _know_ , Swanson." The frustration in her voice singed his touch and he relinquished his hold.

"Sorry, I just.. We're running out of time. And I have to do what I have to do here. And I see your face when I do." His face scrunched up in sympathy. She wished she could shake him until that expression fell. Chloe turned back to stare at the door.

"It doesn't mean anything."

"..It's understandable to have lingering feelings after a relationship assignment, Beale."

"I _don't_.. It's not.. You-"

"I'm just saying. We have to go in focused, or she'll walk all over us."

He said gripping his partner's shoulders, meeting her gaze. She could tell he was begging her to understand the seriousness of his words.

"I _am_ focused."

"If you say so." He stared at her harder for a few moments, before shrugging, turning, and fixing his tie in his warped reflection on the door.

"Ready?" He reaffirmed, running a hand through his curls.

"As I'll ever be."

They exchanged a glance, pulling firearms from their holsters before entering.

"Show time," Swanson muttered and swung open the door.

She had seen it before, but the scene unintentionally broke her heart the same amount each time they re-entered the tiny space.

 _She's the assignment, Beale. She's a criminal._

The dingy closet smelled of rust and blood. It was dark, and the only light was a faint glow of a street lamp outside that peeked through the corner of a blacked-out window that had peeled slightly. The rough cement was slightly damp under her boots, due to a light but constant leak from last night's storm. Chloe listened harder. The faint drips were paced with ragged breathing. In the center of the room, she took in the sight of a small figure.

 _Beca_.

The light from hallway filled the storage closet, causing the brunette to flinch but keep her focus on the floor. Despite her arms being duct taped to a small chair, she flicked her ring finger and thumb together with her left hand, over and over. A nervous tick Chloe had noted in her reports to signify Beca's anxiety. Her black blouse was torn, causing the neck to dip dangerously low. Dark eyeliner was smudged across her eyes, and smeared even further up her face. A purplish black bruise festered under one of her eyes, and a dried gash contrasted the porcelain skin at her cheek. A slow smile crept to her face as she realized who had entered, causing her to grimace when her lip split yet again from the stretch. Yet Beca's fascinations appeared to never leave the ground.

"I missed you while you were gone," She rasped.

Chloe's insides lurched at the sight of Beca. What she had done to her. Swanson had, technically, but it had been because of her actions.

 _Your actions are your job. You've done nothing wrong._

Her assuring thoughts did nothing to quiet the guilt.

The door closed behind the partnership, and Swanson flipped on a switch. A pale artificial light flickered to life overhead, revealing more of the injuries the smaller woman suffered from. Bruises patterned her body, and angry red burns peeked out from the edge of her shirt. Beca's eyebrows scrunched together from the sudden harsh lighting. Chloe watched as her eyes adjusted slowly, and rose to meet her own.

The pain in Beca's stormy gaze was imminent, her eyes were glazed but her dark blue irises blazed with emotion. Chloe's heart fluttered at the intense stare, never wavering. In all the time they spent together, rarely had Beca ever delivered this kind of relentless eye contact. It was as if she was looking for something, anything from the redhead. "Desperate" would never have been a word Chloe would use to describe Beca, and even in the past hours of interrogation, Beca had not shown any sign of weakness. However, under her blatant glare, a flash of pleading could be seen in Beca's eyes. The intensely layered look phased Chloe, and she felt herself take a step back. Swanson grunted his disdain at the exchange and pushed the brunette, chair and all, backward slightly.

 _God, Beale. Get a grip._

She attempted to gain control over her actions, readjusting her hold on her 10 mm and glaring at the small brunette over the barrel. This was where they were now.

"So this is the point we've reached, huh?" Beca whispered and her voice cracked on the last syllable.

Chloe's chest constricted as the small girl looked down in defeat. The redhead narrowed her eyes at her ex-lover's form, and felt a white-hot rage boil up from her stomach. Beca could still read her thoughts. Though so much had happened, the two were still synced despite being on different ends of the spectrum. It was enough to make Chloe scream. Beca's shoulders began to shake at Chloe's lack of response, and she hunched over. From laughter. Beca was laughing at her. Her pain, her situation. Chloe released the safety on her firearm and cleared her throat.

"Beca, this could have been over hours ago. Just answer Agent Swanson's questions, and we will be on our way."

Beca was exhausted. Contrary to her snark, Chloe could tell the hours of interrogation were finally catching up to her. With the energy she could muster, Beca rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the floor. However, the agent knew because of the glassy and unresponsive nature of usually attentive eyes that Beca would most likely lose consciousness soon. Beca snickered again, her disbelief apparent in her grimaced expression. Still with resolve, she again lifted her vacant eyes to meet electric blue ones.

"Fuck you, dude."

Chloe winced in a prediction of what would happen next. She knew it was all part of her line of work, but she didn't think Swanson had to be as rough as he was being with her.

"You think you're pretty funny." Swanson glowered. "That's fine. We have all day."

Chloe tried to keep her expression steady as Swanson punched the small woman square in the jaw. A second jab was delivered to her gut, causing her to keel over as far as she could in the small chair and the duct tape restraints to cut into her skin.

"Again. Where are the prints." He asked calmly. "Or we can keep playing this game."

Beca regained control of her breathing, then swallowed.

"Glad to see how much I mean to you," She wheezed, the question clearly directed at the redhead.

Chloe met her glare with silence. It was her turn to break the eye contact.

"Also, glad that I get to help you with your power trip, Mr. Swanson." She smiled sarcastically to him, her pearly white teeth laced with blood. The male agent delivered another right hook, snapping the brunette's head backward with even more vigor than the previous punch. Beca spat out a mouthful of blood, eyes boring into Chloe's as a single trickle of blood leaked down from her nose.

 _You shouldn't care about her. You shouldn't be attached. You've been trained better than this._

"Where are the prints, Mitchell." He growled, yanking her head backward by her hair and forcing her to break attention from Chloe to screw her face up in pain.

"I hope the FBI will be happy to know their best agent had been getting fucked pretty regularly," She spat.

Swanson and Chloe had been partners for some time now, so though it was small, Chloe could definitely recognize signs of surprise on his face as minute as they were. He released her and the redhead's cheeks flushed red, whether it was out of embarrassment or anger she couldn't tell. Beca opened her eyes lazily, but the fire behind them was undeniable as she spoke seemingly only to Chloe.

"Yes, sir. Agent Swanson. She likes it rough, in the shower.." Her eyes grazed down Chloe's form. "Or being tied up. The very idea-"

Chloe felt her insides clench.

"Shut up, Beca."

Beca closed her mouth in a thin smile. Shaking her head.

"Just Beca? Not 'Oh Beca' or 'Harder Beca..?"

The hot rage flared.

"I said _shut up_." Chloe hissed as she took a step closer, bringing the tip of her weapon inches from Beca's aquiline nose.

Beca gave her a patronizing look. Shrugging, she stretched against the tight restraints before relaxing back into the chair.

"Or what? You'll shoot me?"

 _ **6 Months Earlier**_

Chloe watched a small black bird swoop down and perch on a flag pole protruding from a nearby skyscraper. She was on the 11th floor of the bureau, which sounded exciting, but looked like an ordinary office space. The entire west wall of the bureau was made up of windows, giving the perfect view to the other buildings outside. A little depressing, if she thought about it. Her first few weeks as an agent were in a word, uneventful. The bird flew off, and she redirected her attention back to her desk. A family of smiling red heads beamed up at her from beside her computer in a bedazzled frame. A hot pink pen cup sat next to that, with writing utensils of varying sizes and colors. A small sketch of a microphone leaned against the cubicle wall that her artistic friend had drawn for her after she had sung in an acapella competition. The trophy she had won from said performance proudly lay side long the portrait. Everything had its place, but with a hint of fun. Her coworkers had told her she didn't take the position seriously enough, and stated that she was wasting her time with her youthful attitude and positivity.

What they didn't realize was that Chloe was a firm believer that it is essential to work hard, but there is no harm in adding a little spice to the job. Makes it more endurable. At least that was what she thought. The past few weeks had definitely started to drain her confidence. She stared at the large stack of reports her fellow agents had asked her to file with reluctance. So far, her job had consisted of doing paperwork and occasionally picking up coffee for anyone who had been with the Bureau longer. But that's what happens with any new job. You have to climb your way up the totem pole to gain any sense of respect. Chloe accepted that. But the desk work was becoming unbearable. She stared out the windows again, putting off the reports.

"Oi. Look alive, ginger."

Chloe snapped out of her daze to greet Amy. Her co-worker and college friend. It was 3 o'clock, that time of day Amy would practically dance down the rows of desks delivering briefs of assignments. Surprisingly, Amy had assisted her in getting this position regardless of the Australian's rambunctious behavior. With those words, the larger girl had tossed a hefty manila envelope onto Chloe's desk, knocking over the vibrant pen cup.

"For me?" Chloe questioned.

"No. I just make special deliveries of empty envelopes to Wendy's restaurant look alikes because I feel like it." Amy rolled her eyes. "Don't be an idiot."

Chloe didn't respond and shifted the thick envelope to the side momentarily. Amy coughed, and when Chloe looked up she found the blonde to be disappointed at her lack of response.

"But seriously, congratulations Chlo. The chief said this was the opportunity of a lifetime." Chloe scrambled to rearrange her desk contents, placing the pens back into the cup and squinting at Amy in disbelief.

"He said that?"

"Oh sure. No entry level agent has really had these chances this early on. Real piece of work. I told him you would have it all under wraps because you were a ginger." Chloe squinted even further. "Feisty." Amy clarified, bringing her hands up to imitate bear claws.

Chloe redirected her attention to the hefty assignment, hands shaking with excitement as she opened it. A myriad of opportunities flashed through her mind. Could it be terrorists? Other national threats? Underground drug rings? The mafia? She could handle the mafia. They were just misunderstood, most people are. They just need someone to communicate with them, right? Or if worse came to worse, she could result in kicking ass. Both of these were great options in her book.

A picture of a small brunette girl tumbled onto her desk. Her excitement dwindled and she glimpsed up to her old friend who had delivered the specifics.

"Really, Fat Amy?" She sighed. Holding up the still of the girl. "She looks ferocious."

"Looks can be deceiving. That squirt could be a mess of trouble. It's always the smallest dingoes that pack the greatest wallop." The blonde leaned over to get a better look of the photo. "And it's Agent Amy, now."

Ignoring Amy's ridiculous request to yet again change her name, Chloe peered in disbelief at the tiny pale woman in the picture. She was wearing a dark pea coat, an obscene amount of eye liner, and crossing some sketchy street at night while looking over her shoulder at the camera.

"She would be 100 pounds, maybe, soaking wet," Chloe stated, her eyes widening as her mind caught up with what Amy had just said.

" _Could_ be a lot of trouble? So, we don't even know if she poses any kind of threat?"

"Hey. I don't make the assignments, I just deliver. The bossman said you would be on surveillance." She winked and pointed at the photo. "Well if it's any consolation, she does look just like your type. So, if anything you can enjoy staring at her instead of out the window like an idiot."

Chloe's cheeks reddened to match her hair. " _What_? I don't- I don't have a type. Totally inappropriate, Amy. Not to mention she's some sort of criminal?"

Amy's grin widened. " _Might_ be a criminal. Plus, she's all dark and mysterious. Totally your type. Brooding, misunderstood. Do a little bit of surveilling yourself. Just to make sure she's 100 pounds soaking wet."

Chloe choked on the air like a fish out of water.

"I—Y-you- "

"Just calling 'em like I see 'em. You've been out of the dating game for way too long. I'm getting concerned my Pippi will die alone. Work should not be your only love!" She affirmed and hip checked Chloe's chair on her way over to Swanson's desk. Chloe sat in silence, still attempting to string words into anything intelligible.

"Hey! New assignment!" Swanson rolled over in his chair like an excited puppy.

"Y-yeah.." Chloe stuttered, coming back to reality and pulling the rest of the brunette's documentation from the envelope.

"Whatcha got?"

"Solo assignment, sorry Swanson." She sympathized, gesturing to the red "SOLO" stamp marked across the envelope. He huffed out a disappointed breath.

"Sure, give the new kid the assignment. Makes perfect sense!" She feigned a look of hurt that he took seriously, not wanting to upset the redhead. "Hey! Totally okay. I'll be walking you through everything! What type of assignment is it? You gotta take someone out? Repossession? Arrest?"

Chloe knew if she didn't stop him now, he never would stop talking.

"Shh Jess, trying to read." She stated as she scanned over the brief.

 _ **Beca Mitchell**_

 _ **11/5/1993**_

 _ **Female**_

 _ **Brunette**_

 _ **5' 2"**_

 _ **Los Angeles, CA**_

 _ **Owner of Locked Night Club Venue**_

 _ **1 Account of Assault and Battery**_

 _ **1 Account of Disorderly Conduct**_

 _ **2 Accounts of Resisting Arrest**_

 _ **Person of interest has shown suspicious signs of activity in relation to corporate and criminal means. Several proprietors of large corporations have been tracked to frequently attend subject's night club to meet with known crime ring leaders in order to arrange illegal business activity. It is unclear whether or not the subject is directly involved with such conspiracy, but may have more information concerning said illicit actions. Subject is allegedly in a romantic relationship with Luke Carren, a highly wanted criminal. Subject maintains a persona of disagreeable behavior, rejecting various agents who have attempted to make contact in the past and resisting arrests.**_

 _ **Objective: Develop contact with subject in order to obtain information regarding criminal activity and any beneficial information concerning Carren. Infiltrate venue, and extract /expose information of corporate fraud in order to convict the participating offenders.**_

 _ **Assignment Field Time: Unknown**_

 _ **Assignment Type: Solo Undercover**_

Chloe thumbed the photo again of the brunette who stared intensely at the camera. She mused how she wouldn't have wanted to be the person who had taken the shot. The woman did have a certain of beauty to her though... Her face was narrow, and delicate but fierce at the same time. Chloe stared into the deep eyes that locked onto the camera. Dark... But afraid, somehow. She seemed to be an emotional burrito. How could someone who looked so innocent and small be involved with the likes of Luke Carren?

"Anything good?"

Chloe dropped the file at Swanson's words. "What? Yes! Good. Got it. Good."

"Okay, weirdo." He scrutinized rolling away to his desk where Amy had just dropped some paperwork. "Give me the deets later."

"Beale!" A voice barked from the back of the bureau. Chloe whipped around, scooting the photo further away from herself and swirling around to face the chief of the bureau. A large man, with beefy characteristics and a handlebar mustache that would make even the most dedicated hipsters jealous.

"Yessir?" She almost squeaked.

"My office. You ship out for the Locked assignment tomorrow morning."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Wow! Thank you guys so much for all the positive responses! I really do appreciate it! So this chapter is a little longer, and moves a little slower because our girls hadn't met each other yet, and we're trying to add a little schema to Chloe and her character. Bit of a slow burn at the beginning here, that hopefully will be worth it later. Thanks for all the support! You all are fabulous, it is seriously a great time to be a part of this fandom. Loves!**_

 _ **Address History: -**_

 _ **Insurance: -**_

 _ **Vehicle Registrations: -**_

 _ **Credit Applications: -**_

 _ **Credit Score: -**_

 _Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Why did Amy even bother to print this shit out?_

"It's like watching water boil, Beale. The information on her isn't going to magically surface if you stare at it long enough,"

Swanson was teasing, but unfortunately, he was right. The partnership sat waiting for orders from headquarters in Swanson's FBI standard-issue black SUV. They were parked outside of a pawn shop which was the selected drop off point for mission materials. Unfortunately, Amy was responsible for organizing the delivery. It had been three hours since they first pulled up.

 _Someone could have sculpted us in this time._

Chloe had shredded a brochure she snagged from their flight into pieces at this point, flicking the demolished papers off her pant leg and onto the floor of the car.

"What else am I supposed to do, Swanson? We're operating on Amy's clock."

It was a wonder how the Australian still had a job. On several occasions Chloe had witnessed her walking in 4 hours late to her shift, claiming she would have been in earlier but was caught up wrestling with a wild crocodile right outside. At this point, all of the agents assumed the chief wasn't going to test that theory when he saw the crazed look in Amy's eyes when he had confronted her. This resulted in a large portion of the department running on Amy's timetable. Chloe rolled her eyes in irritation.

 _AST-Amy Standard Time. Just assume everything will take an extra 5 hours._

Swanson had called her earlier that day, informing her about an update he received from the bureau that Chloe's first objective would be that night. Or judging from the looks of things, it could take until tomorrow morning. The night was late enough that the sprinklers turned on in front of the pawn shop, and started hitting the side of the vehicle.

"Man, I just washed this thing," Swanson complained from the driver's side, glaring at the spray on Chloe's window.

"I told you not to pick the black SUV, Jess," Chloe reasoned, attempting to add a tinge of kindness to her voice.

When Chloe had first confronted him about the stereotypical vehicle, he stated that if they were going undercover he was going to "do it right." From what Chloe had gathered about Swanson, he had wanted to join the bureau since early childhood. She could picture him as a curly haired little kid binging trashy FBI films in his early years. Based on his behaviors, he completely emulated those films. She never caught him wearing anything other than a uniform black suit and tie, even on days he wasn't "technically" on duty. He sported an earpiece he had bought at a blowout sale from a nearby _Radioshack_. Yeah. _Radioshack_. In addition to his pointless tech, he was never without a pair of iconic black-out shades that Chloe had spent a half an hour trying to talk him out of wearing them during the nighttime.

Despite his devotion to the thug FBI agent persona, she was pretty sure she had caught him out of character the other day, fishing candy bars out of his FBI "briefcase." But he was committed to the role. So, despite every civilian in a thirty-foot radius gawking at their vehicle as they drove passed, the junior agent decided she was not the one to crush his joy. Chloe continued her doodle of a small flower in the corner of the brief with her hot pink highlighter and scanned over the pages for the umpteenth time.

 _ **Emergency Contact: -**_

 _ **Cellphone Records: -**_

 _ **Misc. Info: -**_

 _ **Dental History: -**_

 _Seriously Amy, just burn down a small forest first next time. Might work faster than printing out the nothing we have here._

Chloe smirked at the thought until she realized she really shouldn't put that idea by Amy.

"You've been fixating over those papers for hours now; new Intel doesn't just appear! It's why we're here."

Chloe shot the male agent an irritated look and huffed her frustration.

"Don't snap at me just because you're hangry, Swanson."

 _But he's right, Chlo. Stop obsessing._

It had been 3 days since the chief had shipped her out for the assignment, and Chloe was feeling a bit off. Swanson had dropped her off at the base apartment in LA, and though the climate was significantly sunnier than she was used to, the space was devoid of anything that could be considered "homey." Chloe considered homey touches to be vitally important in any healthy living space, so much so that she had voiced these concerns to Swanson.

"I'm not a monster! I enjoy an aesthetically pleasing gallery wall as much as the next girl," She defended. Her argument had earned her a condescending stare from her partner, and the indifferent promise that he would check in with the higher ups and get back to her. Of course, the bureau had stuck with their original stance and solidified that no personal belongings should be in the apartment. The purpose of this, of course, was to help her stay focused on the target. In order for the Bureau to leave as little of a trace as possible behind. But if it wasn't hella depressing.

 _It's like a Bubble Boy spin-off._

She had walked into her assigned apartment earlier that week to find most all of the appliances and furniture to be made of stainless steel or leather. She knew these surfaces made for quick sanitation and disposal after she had completed her initiative, but she couldn't help but complain that she wasn't a middle-aged man. The bare essentials of living were provided, and that was that. It wasn't as if Chloe had expected more, she just felt empty. No magnets or pictures on the fridge, no décor on the countertops, with bland carpet and white walls. Ultimately, it was vacant. Like a medical lab. That's just how undercover bases were. To come and go, as if she never existed. And so, Chloe tried to find herself in her work. Pouring over the brief that despite being extremely thick, had an extreme lack of answers about Ms. Beca Mitchell. Except for one small paragraph on the second to last page she had scanned a thousand times.

 _ **Medical History:**_

 _ **03/05/2015**_

 _ **Los Angeles Community Hospital**_

 _ **-Admitted by acquaintance by colleague who claimed patient fell down a flight of stairs.**_

 _ **-Multiple broken ribs**_

 _ **-Punctured lung**_

 _ **-Laceration on forehead**_

 _ **-Broken arm (Left**_ )

 _Hopefully she only uses elevators now. Stairs. You'd think people would be more creative with their lies nowadays. So sad._

Chloe ran her fingers through her hair, and watched a droplet of water from the sprinkler spray glide down her car window and out of sight. She returned her attention again to the lines of neglectful data on the first page.

 _Guess that makes two of us who don't exist anymore._

Chloe groaned and shoved the documents to the car floor under her feet.

"I don't know how we have so little on her, it's not like she's a fugitive."

Swanson looked back imploringly, rubbing his stomach and craning his neck to give her an unappreciative glare.

Chloe continued. "She runs a club some thugs and corporate prudes meet at, but we can't confirm anything? Her social checks out, her citizenship checks out, there's just nothing on her. Like someone went back and deleted everything on her before 2015. She just doesn't seem significant enough for someone that is that powerful to give her a clean slate?"

"She could be anybody, Beale. We wouldn't know. Fugitive.. Prostitute.. Carnie?" He winked and leaned over her to the glove compartment searching for some form of sustenance. Chloe squeaked at his teasing, and returned with a generous laugh.

"With that eyeliner, I guess she totally could be a prostitute." She nodded and shrugged, closing the glove compartment door as he resigned back to his seat empty-handed. "But I seriously doubt she's a car-"

"Package ready for delivery, Swanson." A gravelly voice came in over Swanson's radio that hung from the windshield, cutting Chloe off. The senior agent flashed her a quick smile and struggled to retrieve the receiver by pulling on the curly wire it was connected to. He held it up in victory.

"About time Amy." He whispered before clicking the responder button. "Affirmative. Ready for pick up."

The senior agent popped open his door and swung out of the SUV. Chloe watched as he made the journey about half way down the poorly lit street to greet a shadowy figure who had walked out of a nearby shop with a black duffel. Swanson shouldered the bag and gave the other agent a little wave before heading back to the car. Chloe's insides changed to liquid in anticipation. This was it, after the drop they would make their way to the club and she could finally begin her first op.

 _And presents are always a bonus._

"What we got Swanson?" Chloe bubbled with excitement when he opened the door.

"Christmas early!" He exclaimed and tossed the duffel across the cab into her lap, and settled back into the driver's seat.

 _Who knew the best thing about being undercover was the swag._

"Well?" He questioned, shoving the keys in the ignition and turning the engine over.

Chloe unzipped the bag and pulled out the contents one by one.

"Looks like some blue prints of the club," She set the graph paper aside. Swanson grunted his approval and backed out of their spot, moving out onto the main road.

"A laptop? Some cash. Passports are in here. The IDs." She set the following items on the center console respectively.

"Anything USEFUL Beale. Come on." He shot her a knowing glance, motioning to his stomach as he pulled up to a red light.

"A Snicker's bar?" Chloe held up the candy in confusion. A bright orange Post-It note was stuck to it with an untidy scrawl scribbled on it.

 _ **FOR SWANSON ONLY. He isn't himself when he's hungry. So tell his whiney ass to STOP texting me, or I'll squeeze the life out of him like easy cheese. Plus, Beale needs to fit into the uniform I crushed picking out for tonight. Not that that twig bitch needs to count calories I guess.**_

Chloe giggled at Amy's tangent. "For you?" She flung the chocolate bar at her partner and hit him square in the shoulder. Swanson gasped in mock hurt and accelerated to pass a minivan that was driving slower than dirt.

"It's about time! I can't help I've been reduced to nothing but bones waiting for her to make up her mind!" He fished around on the floor of the car for the candy. Though Jesse talked about the SUV like it was his baby, Chloe thought there was enough garbage circulating the floor of the vehicle for a green monster from _Sesame Street_ to take residence in the trunk of the SUV.

"What's the uniform she's talking about?" Chloe squinted at the note, and then reached further into the duffel. "I thought I'd just go in what I'm wearing." As if in answer to her question, her fingers grazed a soft velvety material that she discovered was a garment bag.

"See for yourself. Pretty sure she said something about an Australian flag jumpsuit. Probably why it took her so long to get back to us. Classic Amy." Swanson finally retrieved the candy bar from the mountain of trash, and scooted the rubbish further under his seat with his foot.

"Ha! As much as I support the land down under, I think I might have to pass on.."

Chloe's amused tone faded as she peeked inside the garment bag.

Damn.

"Whoa. Jess. It's gorgeous!" She practically squealed.

"Well, we have to attract us some shorty brunette somehow." He smiled, simultaneously ripping the top off the candy bar and flicking his blinker on. "Now get in the back and change. We're almost there."

Chloe scrambled over the seats and unzipped the bag fully, revealing a silky pale blue dress. It had a deep v-shaped back, cinched waist, and the fabric shimmered under the street lights that passed outside. She shook her head to clear her head, reaching over the seats and pulling the black duffel into the back as well. The redhead grabbed bit of cash from the stash and stuffed it into the matching sequin purse that was provided with the dress.

 _Amy knows how to treat a girl. I could probably buy a whole new wardrobe with the cost of this dress._

"Tax dollars at work here?" She posed, marveling again at the sleek design of the gown.

"We spare no expense to catch the bad guys!" Swanson snickered from the front of the cab, stopping fully and turning right onto another ill-lit road. Chloe began to remove her shoes and jacket, and an obvious rustle of clothes magnified throughout the car. Swanson coughed awkwardly before presenting another topic.

"Do we need to go over your identity?"

Chloe had known her bio-specifics for weeks, but until the IDs were printed, the agents usually didn't know their assigned name. She brandished her new identification from the duffel to inspect.

"Mmm.. From this it looks like I'm Chloe.. Bassett? Like the hound?" She sighed and bent the plastic card slightly. "Seriously, Amy?"

 _Ridiculous. She can buy a designer dress, but when it comes to the simplest last name she names me after a squatty dog._

The senior agent barked a laugh. "Ha! She does say she's always a sucker for your puppy dog eyes."

"But a basset hound? And shouldn't I have a different first name?" Her voice dropped in disappointment.

"Well.. Chief only put you in because you're so.. You.." Swanson fiddled with the steering wheel a little uncomfortably.

"Me?" Chloe repeated and extracted herself from her skinny jeans, shoving the duffel to the other side of the seat.

"You. Just.. Optimistic. And way too happy to be an agent. You want to have fun. And are.. 100% you, all the time." He chortled, but took a more serious tone when he noticed her worried silence. "Not bad, just different. Since you're different than anything we've tried, we thought you would be the wisest choice. Nothing else has worked, and the chief and I decided the best lies have some truth to them. So yeah. You're still Chloe."

She blinked in disbelief. "If the chief says so." She pulled her top over her head, now only in her underwear in the backseat.

 _Guess that takes responding to the wrong name on duty out of the picture._

"Eyes on the road Swanson." Chloe lectured, noticing the male agent's eyes had flickered to the rear-view mirror for a few moments that had caused him to drift into the opposite lane of traffic. He yelped a bit and overcorrected into the appropriate lane. A semi zoomed a little too close them afterward, honking loudly.

"Oh! I uhm.. hem." She could tell from his profile he was grinning sheepishly. She slipped the soft gown over her head.

"This ain't a peep show." She joked, and proceeded to slip her feet into the bright red pumps that had accompanied the dress. Swanson coughed uncomfortably, changing the subject.

"Well, this girl can supposedly sniff out false identities on even our best agents." He stated. "I think Amy was supposed to put all of the past op research into the bag?" He motioned for her to check, and switched lanes. Chloe scrambled around in the duffel, retrieving the laptop and opening the lid. She didn't have to look far. Amy had clearly marked the files Beca Mitchell: Shit Show. Chloe snorted at the label and clicked on the first sound file. A low male voice of an unknown agent filled the backseat.

"How's it going today, Beca?"

"Fine. Just tired, Jimmy. How about you?" Chloe's eyebrows rose at the club owner's voice, it was higher than what she had supposed. Not Alvin the Chipmunk status, but more innocent than she predicted. It sounded sweet but tired.

A nervous chuckle from the unknown agent. "I'm alright, just got out of a rough relationship this morning."

 _Solid transition, bro._

Beca grunted in what sounded like attempted sympathy.

"Sorry about that Jimmy. I hope it works out for you. You'll find someone better."

Silence.

"So.. what's the nature of your relationship with Luke Carren?" Chloe winced at the agent's inquiry.

 _Jimmy. You literally have one job. At least try to tone down your cop voice._

Swanson obviously agreed with Chloe's conclusions, as he snorted from the front seat at the other agent's idiocy.

"..Why?" The brunette questioned, voice obviously layered in scrutiny.

"Just curious. Some of the other people were talking around the club.. A couple said you were dating him."

 _This agent seriously must have zero training.. That's a great way to develop trust, claiming to gossip behind your target's back._

A frustrated sigh echoed from the laptop's speakers.

"Open your coat."

 _Busted._

"What?"

"Try and convince me you're not wearing a wire, Jimmy. Open your damn coat." The thing Chloe noticed about Beca's tone was that she didn't actually sound upset, just tired. There was a faint crackling and a sound of disapproval from Jimmy.

"How many of you assholes do I have to go through before you leave me alone? I told you I don't know anything."

The agent tried to protest.

"Jimmy. Kindly go fuck yourself."

"She sounds like a dream." Swanson praised sarcastically over the recording.

 _Poor girl is just tired of being harassed._

Sympathizing with a criminal probably wasn't the best path in FBI work, but from what she heard, it sounded like Mitchell was exhausted with people trying to get information out of her. The chief had lectured Chloe before on controlling her feelings for people of interest. It started when she had reached out to a homeless man who was charged with aggravated assault and suspected conspiracy. He had been shouting in a crazed rage, claiming he had access to a bomb and wasn't afraid to use it on himself. Chloe knew that no threat should be dismissed and terrorizations to national security are always serious, but after sitting with him for a moment Chloe had discovered the man was just hurting. His daughter had left him on a street curb and never came back. He had no idea what to do in his situation, and lashed out in desperation. He was charged with a couple of misdemeanors, despite having no connections to an explosive whatsoever. Chloe's heart panged with sympathy for him, so she approached him in holding to see if she could help. That was when the chief had stepped in, and informed her there was no room for pity in their work. So now, hearing the club owner's exhausted tones, she attempted to bury the twinge of empathy in her chest. Chloe pressed the space bar on the laptop before it could play the next recording.

 _Those can wait till later._

"She's like a wire blood hound. And that's happened with way more agents than were recorded, too." Swanson clarified.

 _How many agents does it take to piss off a dwarf?_

It was like the beginning of a bad joke.

"She's just irritated. I would be too if people kept pestering me for information." Chloe shot back, straightening her dress, and lacing a string of pearls around her neck.

"That's not your job, Beale. Your job is to get the information."

"I know but-"

"As much as I enjoy the awkward tension of this conversation, we're here." Swanson interrupted.

The relief in his voice was undeniable when they pulled up in front of a lit-up building. He hated taking sides between the chief and his partner. Chloe slipped a small device into her ear, and leaned forward to glance up at the club.

It was an older looking building that had been revamped. The walls were built out of aged black brick that appeared to be restored. It reminded her of a trendy version of her hometown's fire station. The building had an alley on either side and large double doors at the front with a line of attendees that stretched to about three buildings down. The name of the club was etched on a sign above the doors, illuminated by a few platform lights underneath.

 _Locked._

"Alright. Objective?" Swanson inquired, swiveling in the driver's seat as much as he could to emphasize his seriousness.

Chloe smirked. "We've been over this a million times."

Swanson clucked his tongue. "Then it won't hurt to go over it one more time."

She sighed reluctantly. "Track down and secure basic contact with subject. Identify any criminal behavior or individuals that are in the club." He hummed his approval.

"Oh, and look hella fine." She struck a pose in the back seat and wiggled her eyebrows teasingly.

"HA. In your dreams, Beale. So remember, tonight is just a scope out. Your main prerogative is to establish basic contact. Anything further than that might scare her off."

Chloe nodded in silent agreement.

"But I need more than small talk bullshit." He pressed. "The sooner we build this up, the sooner we get to go home. Don't worry about Carren, we don't have to overthrow the entire crime ring in one night. Just get me anything you can, and focus on your target. Let her come to you. She needs to be the one to develop trust. The bureau is set on Mitchell being the key to bringing down this whole thing." He took in a deep breath after his tangent and looked at her pointedly, waiting for her to respond.

"Yes, Dad." Chloe sighed and lolled her head around and peered back out to the club.

Sometimes the "rules" of her work straight up confused her. She was so eager to become an agent, but the by-laws were extremely frustrating. A lot of it was read between the lines, especially in regard to undercover work. Be approachable, but not too approachable. Be confident, but not so much that people catch on to you. Be brave, unless you need to save your own skin.

"Ready, Greenie?" Swanson broke her contemplative silence.

Chloe tutted her disapproval at the jab, but opened the door and made to exit the backseat.

"Let's do this."

"Hey, Chlo?"

"Hm?"

"You look beautiful. That dwarf won't know what hit her."

Chloe beamed at the compliment and stepped confidently onto the curb, closing the door as inconspicuously as possible. She walked by the line of club enthusiasts for quite a way, and took her place behind a bickering couple.

"Approaching entry point," Chloe whispered discreetly. In hindsight, probably should have double checked the earpiece before heading out. Rookie move. To her relief, Jesse's voice crackled into her ear.

" _Copy that. On the way out."_ She saw the SUV head up the street in her peripherals, and switched her attention to the couple in front of her.

From a physical standpoint, they appeared to be the perfect couple. He was tall, at least 6 feet tall, and she just a bit shorter. He was a stocky brunette male, and she a leggy blonde. They were dressed to the nines, tuxedo and little black dress. However, it appeared the husband had clearly had a long night.

"Stu, it's Friday night." The wife whined. "I've been wanting to check this club out for weeks. Sandy said it as the new hot thing."

Chloe smirked. _Sandy. Could she be more of stereotypical trophy?_

Stu pinched the bridge of his nose. "Work kicked my ass today, babe. I'm just tired, can't we head home after a little bit?"

"You don't think I've had a long day?"

" _Mayday. Pull out now, Stu_." Chloe snorted at Swanson's commentary, temporarily drawing the attention of the two. She played it off by adopting a sudden interest in the tall black walls of the building until the couple lost interest and returned to their conversation a bit more quietly. After a couple silent glares between the two, Stu had finally sighed in resignation, and the line moved forward a few paces.

" _I know I'm hilarious Beale, but keep a lid on it."_ She could practically see him wink over the microphone.

"Can it, Swanson." She hissed, avoiding eye contact with the couple.

" _Any potential perps?"_ Swanson asked quietly.

It wasn't as if Chloe was expecting shady figures holding canvas bags with dollar signs on them, but from what she could tell the rest of the people in this line were exactly like the two in front of her. Average, with no obvious signs of criminal intent. She swiveled to observe the rest of the crowd behind her. A small bald man in a green polo shirt with mousey disposition stared obliviously passed her, focused with glazed eyes on some unknown object in the distance. He mouthed meaningless words to himself, and Chloe was pretty sure if she sneezed he would fall over. Behind him a group of 5 or 6 rebellious college kids was teasing and shoving each other, obviously already buzzed. Chloe rolled her eyes.

 _At least wait until you're in the club._

A quiet but commanding business woman stood a way back from the gaggle of young adults, shooting disapproving looks when a particularly inebriated young man almost plowed into her. None of these individuals appeared to be slanderous criminals. No shifty glances, no unusual bags or outfits, just people out for meetings or parties on a Friday night.

 _Everyone should look like a criminal to you, Beale. Focus._

"Not.. Really.." She replied softly, after remembering Swanson's question.

"MISS."

She jumped, apparently the line had been progressing further than she predicted. Chloe found herself face to face with the bouncer. He was a large man, not just in height but in stature. He was dressed all in black, had a shiny bald head, and a large bushy beard that reached down below his belly button. He eyed her intently.

"Oh! Hello there!" She beamed, and rummaged in her purse for her assigned ID.

He squinted at her cheeriness.

Not good.

"Haven't seen you around here, before. Miss.. Bassett?" He squinted at the identification.

" _Time to crank it up a notch, Beale,"_ Swanson noted with a bit of worry.

Chloe flipped her hair over her shoulder and puckered her lips into a pout.

"That's me." She teased confidently.

"What's your business at _Locked_ tonight, Miss Bassett?" His tone was suspicious.

"I heard about LA's newest hottest club.. I've been meaning to check it out for weeks!" She echoed the trophy wife's words earlier. The bouncer tucked his clipboard under his arm, still not convinced.

"And I always go.." Chloe tugged on the end of the large man's beard on the last word, and his eyes widened. "Where it's hottest."

She let the words drip with as much appeal as she could, fluttering her eyelashes. The bouncer was now obviously phased, and attempting to come up with words.

" _Holy shit, I think you killed him."_

She leaned back with a knowing smirk and the bouncer raised his eyebrows in silence, visibly scanning over her form in the revealing dress. She hadn't let go of his beard.

"Well.. Usually we don't take first timers that don't have an in.."

"Couldn't you make an exception? I have an excellent track record as a first timer." She released his beard and lifted her hand to pinch her bottom lip innocently.

 _C'mon. Take the bait, big boy._

He turned and mumbled something indistinctly into his headset, holding up his index finger in a "one-second" motion and gazed at her in fascination. Chloe tried not to show her uneasiness as he stared at her. Her nervousness was not necessarily because of the fact that he was a slimy bouncer; Chloe had been gawked at many times by greasy men. But if she couldn't even get into the club, the entire mission was shot. The bouncer held his hand up to the headset, and nodded as something was said to him through the piece.

"Enjoy your evening, Miss Bassett." He smiled, and motioned toward the entrance. Chloe gave him a blinding grin, and returned the forged ID to her clutch.

"Feel free to pay me a visit." He added. Chloe shot him a sly wink and swiveled her hips before entering through the large double doors. No harm in that. She swore she could hear a subtle "damn" follow her onto the main level of the venue.

" _That's how the ginger gets it done. But I did have the fire department on standby just in case to hose down that situation."_ Swanson goaded.

"Remind me to take a shower in hand sanitizer later." She murmured. He chuckled graciously in response.

Chloe's eyes adjusted to the bright lights that shone throughout the club. The inside matched the exterior, with the same authentic black brick lining the walls. The only difference was that every 3 feet or so, a framed cover-art graphic of a different artist hung under a spotlight. The ceiling was high, and the dance floor was illuminated from beneath, syncopated to the beat of music that played through large wall speakers. A second level jutted slightly above the dance area, with frosted windows that were lit with matching colorful lights making it impossible to see anything but indistinct silhouettes.

 _Must be the DJ platform._

" _Do you see Mitchell?"_ Swanson pestered. Chloe spun around. According to the file, Mitchell was a smaller woman, so she'd be difficult to spot. The redhead straightened a bit further and craned her neck, trying to avoid being too obvious, with no results.

"Scoping the dance floor, now." She breathed, and made her way over to the hazy crowd on the illuminated floor.

Aside from being an alleged crime hive, the club had a great atmosphere. Chloe was surprised to find she was actually enjoying herself. She knew she was on duty, but the low bass playing through large speakers vibrated the floor beneath her feet and gave her a sense of peace. She danced freely, a couple of guys tried to grind on her, and she allowed them to a safe point before breaking away. She found herself getting closer and closer to the speaker, wanting to feel the music through every fiber of her being. The last few days in her bland apartment had neglected her to feel anything like this. Free and fluid. The upset couple spun passed her, like a reminder to the op., and Chloe was brought back to reality in a snap.

 _The reason you're here, God Chloe._

She had always gotten caught up in music, it was her escape. An argument she always had with her mother surfaced to her mind. The day she had called and informed her that she was leaving the ideals of becoming a music teacher in order to become a cop. Chloe knew her mother had protested, wanting to keep her safe, but also happy. Chloe snipped back stating that she was happy. She just wanted to help people, and for others to take her more seriously. Her mother had never understood. But here at this club, feeling the notes reverberate in her bones, she again questioned her choice.

 _Shit. Jesse. She caught herself again._

"Swanson, you there?" She hissed into the earpiece.

Silence. She pulled the device from her ear and cursed. She must have danced too close to the speakers and the bass had blown the small receiver. The junior agent shoved the broken equipment in her clutch.

 _Find Mitchell._


	3. Chapter 3

Chloe scanned the crowd yet again, nothing. She looked over to the left wing of the venue and noticed the bar. A single, long, black wood counter top stretched back towards the entrance with tall barstools lining it. She also noted it was absolutely.. Empty.

 _What kind of bar is empty at a club?_

She squeezed between a couple of hammered country girls and stalked to the bar. It was quieter over there, the counter was deserted as well as the circular tables further back. She thought she saw a sign of life in the hallway that was behind the bar.

"Hello..?" She called over the counter top. Nothing. Until she heard faint footsteps from the backroom grow louder.. And faster.

"What the-" Chloe had seconds to react. A thin Asian girl with a tight ponytail and bangs leaped over the counter, sliding off of it James Bond style, and sticking the landing while clutching armfuls of shot glasses to her chest.

"LILLY! HEY! STOP THAT ASIAN!" Someone bellowed from the back where the girl had emerged from. Chloe whipped around, seizing the black-haired girl's wrist in response, causing a single glass to shatter on the ground. Who Chloe assumed was Lily glared at her before leaning in swiftly and biting the redhead's freckled arm.

"YOW!" Chloe screamed, retracting and letting go. Surprisingly, Lilly smiled and didn't run further. She recollected the glasses to her chest, and let out a small inaudible whisper.

"Crystal helps us communicate with the dead."

 _The fu-_

Her thought was interrupted, as a tall brunette dove over the counter, tackling Lilly and sending shot glasses flying.

"I told you a MILLION times Lilly, our glasses AREN'T made of crystal!" She wrestled Lilly into a headlock until the thief tapped out. She pulled them both to a standing position, panting, and placed her hands on Lilly's shoulders. Chloe stepped back a bit to give them some space, a bit in shock but ready to use her training if necessary.

"Good. God Lil, you need to stop pulling shit like this! You need this job. Don't think Mitch won't fire your ass." Chloe's attention spiked at the mention of her assignment's name, and the tall brunette shoved Lilly behind her.

"Go wipe off the counters, or something. I got this."

The authoritative brunette then stooped and began picking glasses off of the floor. Only then did Chloe notice the tall woman and her apparent co-worker were wearing similar outfits: slicked ponytail, black skinny jeans, a white button down, blood-red vest, and stilettos. Though the lady before her had several more buttons undone on her top than Lilly, exposing her cleavage to a sinful degree. Chloe averted her eyes violently. The dip was distracting, to say the least, especially when the brunette was crouching. The woman had a lightly faded name tag pinned to her shirt over her left breast, "Stacie." Chloe crouched uncomfortably in her dress to assist the taller woman in picking up the discarded shot glasses.

"Hopefully she doesn't have rabies." Chloe jested and gestured to the red imprints of Lily's chompers on her arm.

"Oh shit. I'm so sorry about that!" Stacie set down the glasses she had gathered in a neat pile and pulled Chloe's arm in for closer examination.

"LILLY. I SAID NO BITING." She called, running her finger over the indents. "Lucky you, she didn't break skin." Chloe stared back at her in shock.

"I can grab the first aid kit, if you'd like though." The redhead shrugged at Stacie's nonchalance, withdrawing her arm, and deciding she might as well own it. She'd seen crazier on the job.

 _Doesn't take away the rabies scare.._

"Nah, but hopefully she's gotten her shots."

Stacie sniggered. "I like you, Red. Drink on the house?" Chloe grinned her approval. "Once we can get you a clean glass, of course."

The two gathered the last of the shot glasses and stacked them on the counter. Stacie took her place behind the counter, wiping a glass clean, while Chloe swung up into one of the deserted barstools. The song changed in the distance, and the crowd cheered wildly in approval.

"Alright. What's your poison, Red?" Stacie requested, shooting Lilly a glare who innocently observed her from the other end of the bar combing her bangs.

"It's Chloe." Stacie rolled her eyes, not caring. "Uh.. Surprise me?" At this point, she had no idea what alcohol someone like Stacie could have behind the counter. But the bartender took the second response with more appreciation.

"Ah! A dare devil! Getting bit by a crystal obsessed psycho wasn't enough adventure for one night?" Stacie winked a little too flirtatiously.

 _Yeah we sure it isn't crystal meth she's talking about?_

"That's me! Adrenaline junkie. Maybe later I'll run with some scissors."

Stacie snorted again. "So what's the deal, Red? You out to impress someone?" She gestured to the length of Chloe's body.

The redhead responded only slightly, absorbed in assessing the crowd again for Mitchell, but coming up empty. "Hm?"

"The dress. I mean damn girl, you could turn me in that thing. You in for business or a little pleasure tonight?" Stacie let the question stretch out a little longer than necessary and poured some alcohol into the freshly wiped glass. For some reason, the brunette seemed a bit anxious.

"Oh! I guess a little bit of both?" Something crossed Stacie's face, maybe relief.

"Me too. Got plans with that little treat over there." She gestured to one of the rambunctious college kids, who grinned hungrily back to the bartender. Stacie licked her lips. "Two more hours 'til last call." Chloe smiled awkwardly at the bartender and took a sip of her drink.

"Want me to help you find a midnight snack of your own?"

Chloe blushed and choked slightly on the alcohol that burned down her throat. "No uh, I think you will do enough snacking for the both of us." She spluttered.

Chloe straightened a little further up in her seat, looking out again to the dance floor. Chloe downed the rest of her drink in defeat with a sigh. If she went back to Swanson with nothing to report other than a psychotic whisperer and sexually charged bartender, he would ship her back first thing in the morning.

"You looking for anyone in particular?" Stacie stretched forward over the bar, attempting to follow Chloe's line of sight into the crowd.

"Actually.."

 _Why not. She seems crazy enough to play. She kind of mentioned her earlier._

"I'm looking for Beca Mitchell..?"

Any friendly characteristics were suddenly sucked from Stacie's face.

"Really. Why?"

 _Make something up._

"Just a big fan," Chloe blurted. "Love the club. The vibe she has going here! Would love to meet her."

Stacie relaxed, but only slightly. "She doesn't usually take house visits, sorry." The bartender's eyes flicked to the second level jutting slightly over the dance floor before coming back to Chloe's.

 _Aah. She's in her hiding place._

"Totally fine," Chloe reassured. "I'm having fun hanging with you." All signs of suspicion vanished and Stacie reciprocated her sickly-sweet smile.

"Cool, Red. Let me top you off." She reached under the counter for the bottle. At the same time, the beat drops and the crowd explodes.

"Hey, uh, Stacie?" The tiny bald man who had stood behind Chloe in line at the entrance approached the bar.

" _Sup, Ralph. Hang on, one second."_

The bartender finished refreshing Chloe's drink and crossed a few feet to where he hunched over the bar. She produced another glass and began wiping it down, and he spoke to her in hushed tones. Chloe attempted to keep her focus on the crowd with perked ears, listening intently but getting nothing. She watched as Stacie nodded in agreement to something Ralph had said and pulled a white card from her pocket. She slid the cardstock across the counter, which he took wordlessly and walked back off into the dancing crowd. Chloe immediately stood to follow in pursuit, grabbing her clutch from the counter and turning only to be met face to face with the quiet Asian.

"GOD!" Chloe exclaimed. The whisperer licked her lips. It was different, but Chloe didn't believe in personal bubbles and embraced the weird in most people. Lilly was no exception.

"Sorry, Lilly. Can't offer you seconds, I'm right handed!" Chloe grimaced sympathetically, holding up her luckily dominant and unbitten hand.

Lilly breathed out her next words, but Chloe couldn't decipher them. She could only take in the look of concern on the dark-haired girl's face as she spoke.

"LILL. LEAVE RED ALONE." Chloe shot a grateful look over Lilly's shoulder to Stacie and attempted to sidestep her. Lilly responded by holding the redhead closer, and whispered into her ear.

"Mitch. Bathroom break. 15 minutes." Chloe nodded in surprise, and felt Lilly's astonishingly strong grip release her shoulders.

"Thanks for the drink, Stacie!" Chloe called, and extracted herself further from Lilly. "I'm heading to the porcelain palace."

Stacie picked up Chloe's dirty glass, and began walking to the back room.

"Good on you! Nothing's better than stall sex!"

Disgust rushed through the pit of Chloe's stomach, but she shrugged it off with a wave to the bartender. Who was she to judge another woman's libido? She tucked her clutch under her arm and made her way to the restrooms that were a little further down the side than the bar.

Chloe felt a little uncomfortable waiting for the subject as long as she did. 15 minutes was a long time without Angry Birds, or some other shit to entertain herself. Sure, the bathroom was nice. Not Tipton Hotel status, but clean. Themed with the rest of the venue, two black stalls, single spotlights across the top, black granite sinks, and a long mirror stretched across the wall opposite the toilets. Could be worse.

 _Just be grateful there are locks on the doors._

Chloe opened the door to one of the stalls, appreciating the restroom was completely empty.

 _This totes has to be some kind of hazing garbage for new agents. I'm literally waiting for a girl in a bathroom stall._

She slid the lock into place behind her and sat on the toilet seat, tucking her knees under her chin.

 _This must be how serial killers feel._

The minutes ticked by. She fiddled with the sequins on her clutch, flicking them to the dark floor of the restroom. 15 minutes had definitely passed at that point.

 _Maybe she's working through break. Unhealthy._

20 minutes passed.

 _I was really that stupid to believe someone who thinks crystals connect us with the dead._

25 minutes.

Chloe clenched her fists at her own stupidity to her forehead, resisting the urge to throw her purse at the stall wall. She was an agent, for Christ's sake. And this was where she was? Sitting in a seedy bathroom of a club, hoping her assignment would deign to walk in?

 _It's a good thing they offered me dental._

30.

 _My how the mighty have fallen. If Swanson could see me now._

Her frustration peaked. She might just have to come back another night, and barge into that second level guns blazing if she had to. It was humiliating. Chloe motioned to get off the bowl, when the main door slammed open. In stunned silence, Chloe retreated back to her perch, and leaned so she could peek out the stall door crack. The door slammer's back was to Chloe, but she could make out a small frame. The girl who had entered was muttering under her breath angrily.

"-Who does he think he is-"

"-Asshole. Fucking asshole. None of his business-"

"-Every time. Just fucking patriarchy and men's worlds and bullshit-"

The voice confirmed to Chloe who was now frantically pacing in front of the sinks.

 _Mitchell._

The small brunette rolled up her sleeves in frustration, and flipped the faucet on a little too harshly. She cursed when it sprayed everywhere. Chloe slowly set her feet down from the seat, as the club owner brought some water to her face. The redhead coughed a bit to announce her presence.

Mitchell froze in her current position, and slowly put her hands back down to either side of the sink.

 _God it's like we're in high school. I haven't territorial coughed in years._

Chloe flushed the toilet to avoid suspicion, and quietly opened the door.

What she was not expecting was how beautiful Beca was. Of course she sort of knew from the few photos surveillance had dug up on her, but face to face it was different.. Beca was simply stunning. She had sharp features that were dangerous but still had a delicate innocence being so petite. She was pale, thin, and soft. Yet dangerous looking. She wore a low-cut black V-neck, dark skinny jeans, black and gold high tops, with an elegantly small gold chain necklace to accent. Her long chocolate curls flowed down her back, that matched a pair of fierce eyebrows held high above stormy sea colored eyes accentuated by a fiercely applied liquid eyeliner. Chloe's heart stuttered slightly.

 _Damn._

"Can I help you?" The small girl shot angrily.

Chloe hadn't realized she was staring until she noticed the brunette was fiercely looking at her through the mirror, droplets of water trailing down her chin and into the sink.

 _Keep it professional, Beale._

"Sorry, just having a bit of an off day." Chloe snapped out of her trance and approached the other sink next to the brunette.

 _Okay, Beale. What have we got. Murmuring about supposed significant other, resulting in major trust issues? She's clearly loaded. Confident but modest? Judging from the size of the gold chain. Dark clothes suggest a need to be minimalistic, exercise some sort of control over her life?_

Mitchell pulled a paper towel out from the dispenser and began to blot her face, and her breathing began to slow.

 _Flushes easily.. Prone to outbursts of anxiety regarding relationships. Type of response means possible victim of abusive or manipulative relationships in the past?_

"Yeah. You're not alone." The shorter woman finally murmured, peering down into the sink. Chloe raised her eyebrows in surprise at the U-turn type of sincerity their conversation had just taken, but recovered and flicked on the faucet.

"Rough night?"

Mitchell shifted to look at Chloe with a distrusting expression, in shock of her pleasantries.

 _Significant number of piercings in both ears. Again, attempting to project she maintains control of self, especially over her body._

"Just long."

Chloe hummed sympathetically, and squirted some soap into her hand from the wall dispenser.

 _Let her come to you. She needs to be the one to develop trust._

Swanson's words echoed through Chloe's mind. Silence fell over the two, and the club owner shot Chloe another expression of disbelief before returning to dab her face with a ratted paper towel and arching her back in a long stretch. Chloe couldn't help but notice the taut lower ab muscles that peeked out from the bottom of her V-neck when she did so.

 _Works out.. Apparently._

The brunette leaned back across the sink hanging her head, clearly waiting for the redhead to leave. Minutes passed, and Chloe had never in her life been as obsessed with the hygiene of her hands than at that point. She picked her cuticles, insistent on staying, until the club owner apparently couldn't take any more.

"Do I know you?" She snapped.

 _Exhibits signs of social anxiety. Cannot articulate needs or wants in awkward situations. Lashes out in moments of confusion._

Chloe cleared her throat. "No. Hem. No."

 _Nice. Be approachable._

Chloe reassured herself gently, but she couldn't help but notice her heart was beating a little faster. The brunette shrugged, and tossed the used towels into the garbage, and began to move toward the exit.

 _Relies on avoidance tactic, cannot process emotions so deliberately leaves. Nope, gonna need more than that._

Chloe could imagine the debrief tonight with Swanson, who would give her hell if after her first objective she was still just another face in the crowd to Ms. Mitchell. She swallowed harshly.

"You're Beca Mitchell, right?"

Beca rotated slowly, clearly miffed that she hadn't been able to take her escape route.

 _Boots. Caked with mud. Not sand. She's been in a field of some sort recently. Not just hanging out in the club. Also girl, why? Don't wear high heeled boots to outdoor gatherings._

"Who's asking?"

"Just your friendly neighborhood redhead." Chloe laughed, and turned from drying her hands to give her assignment a wry smile. Shockingly, the shorter woman smirked back to her.

"Did your Spidey senses rat me out?"

"Oh, totes." Chloe practically beamed, pleased that the club owner was willing to play.

"Don't use that word. Just. Gross." Chloe chuckled at the brunette's disgust.

 _Can be approached with a shield of humor._

"I'm Chloe." She said and outstretched her hand to the small woman, who again looked at her with suspicion before reaching out. Her wrist had an illustration of DJ headphones inked in contrast to her pale skin.

 _Could be in relation to profession or have deeper meaning. Judging from the fading of the ink, 3-5 years old._

A darker inscription traced slightly above the first in an elegant cursive script across the fair skin. Chloe couldn't make out the words.

 _Significant meaning to recent events in life. Under a year old. Non-English, wanting to keep unknown to others, but have personal relevance. Again with the trust issues._

"I'm just a fan of the club." Chloe began, and let truth sink into her words. "Starting tonight, funnily enough. Really love the atmosphere and everything. The music here just makes me feel.. So alive."

She spoke as if she were in a dream, and forgot her observations for a moment. The words clearly had an effect on the tiny woman, her sharp features melted from a look of caution to understanding. Chloe held onto the cold but soft skin of the other girl's hand for a little longer than necessary.

"Oh. Well. Thanks.. And.. Awesome. To meet you, Chloe." Mitchell stuttered, tugging her hand from Chloe's firm hold.

"Same to you, Ms. Mitchell." Chloe beamed.

The club owner winced, "It's just Beca. Please. Unless you're the government or my father, don't need to hear that." Chloe's chest swelled a bit at these words, but shifted back to her observations.

 _Disdain for authoritative figures. Bring it home._

"Beca, then. Well.. I hope your night goes better. Your club is amazing. I've never had this experience at a club before, and Locked has definitely made an impression. Despite trouble in paradise, you're doing a fantastic job." Beca tilted her head to the side, in skepticism of the words Chloe was gracing her with.

She scrunched her face reluctantly. "Thanks, dude."

 _Established contact, information concerning emotional well-being and weaknesses in relationships._

Chloe smiled warmly, and pushed for the exit, satisfied with the ground they had made.

"Hey wait!" Beca half shouted, stopping Chloe directly outside the bathroom entrance. The club owner dug through her back pockets for a moment. "These should be good for a while." The brunette shoved a couple of black strips of paper into the redhead's hands. Chloe shifted the paper to read the writing more clearly. Her face lit up in surprise, free drink vouchers.

 _Can be gracious. Feels the need to reciprocate after compliments or other positive affirmations are provided._

"Keep coming back. We need some more great power and responsibility type shit around here. Just tell Pip outside you're with me."

 _As in fool of a Took? You're fucking me._

"That mountain outside is named Pip?" Chloe guffawed.

Beca chuckled with raised brows. "He gets that a lot."

Chloe hummed her amusement, and lifted up the vouchers. "Mmm, well. Stacie will love these."

"Wait you know Stacie?"

 _Touchdown._

"Sure, she's been keeping me watered." Chloe winked incredulously, and Beca stared back with her mouth agape. In that moment, time seemed to catch up to the brunette, and something clicked in her brain. She was brought back to reality and repositioned her face into an indifferent expression.

"Hm. Well. I'll see you around then." She waved, and walked off in the direction of the bar.

"Bye, Beca!"

Chloe shut her apartment door with her back to it, sliding to the floor and stretched her legs out in front of her. After debriefing with Swanson, it was finally time to decompress. He tried to take her feelings into consideration, but the last thing the male agent heard before the mic blew was the tasty conversation between Chloe and Pip the Mega-Hobbit.

" _You have to be more careful next time Beale." He scolded._

" _I couldn't just leave, Jess. We'd been waiting on this all week. I got what we needed."_

" _You have to have proper back-up, you know that." He shot back._

 _Chloe's skin crawled with frustration. "I can't help that our equipment is shitty."_

" _Just.. Try to contact me somehow next time, okay? I was worried something had gone wrong. I'm your partner."_

" _I know.. Sorry, Swanson.." She offered reluctantly. This appeared to be enough of an apology for the male agent though, seeing as the next change of topic gave her whiplash._

" _So you knock 'em dead? Any action?" He grinned, eyes glinting. Chloe glared her disapproval, and then proceeded to fill him in on the details of the night._

" _Yeah, I guess we'll find out next full moon if you caught anything dangerous." He chided when Chloe showed him the now light imprint of Lilly's teeth on her wrist. She continued to rehearse the rest of the night's events, from Ralph disappearing into the crowd, to Beca's upset behaviors and angry whispers of a disagreeable male, and finally the free drink vouchers the brunette had surprisingly offered Chloe until she became flustered and stormed off._

" _See! Told you she would cave. No one can resist a redhead's charm."_

The junior agent rolled her eyes at the memory of Swanson's words, but smiled despite herself. The first night of the operation was a success. Well, as much as it could be. She let her head fall against her front door with a soft thump, and kicked off the insufferable red pumps.

 _Fighting crime should not be this painful. Beauty is pain. And kicking ass is pain too? Unfair._

She winced at the red welts on her feet. Luckily, she would catch a break for the next couple days. Swanson had told her they should treat the mission like a well-seasoned steak, and let it rest before heading back into the club. She hated his cooking metaphors, but in the meantime, she had suggested they should attempt to dig up more information on Beca.

" _From what Stacie was saying, she rarely leaves the club." Chloe had rehearsed. "And doesn't often take visits."_

" _Well.. We could start by finding her home. Nothing is listed under her current address, so either she lives in a ditch, or her lease is under a different name. She's relocated a few times since we've surveilled her, I'm guessing they gave up trying to track her when so many operations had tanked. The key is to not tip her off."_

" _Sounds good. Tomorrow we can start canvassing the club, and track her back after work. Now go home, Jess. My feet are killing me. Go eat. Get some rest."_

She anchored her back to the door, and made an attempt to stand up. She crossed the vacant apartment to the leather couch, limping slightly, and collapsed.

 _God, I don't care what anyone says. Leather is not comfortable._

She had closed her eyes for only a few moments, until a loud vibration disturbed her daze. She fished around for her bag and extracted her phone, peeling her face from the stiff loveseat.

 _ **A: Heard my ginge spiced it up tonight. You're welcome for the wardrobe upgrade.**_

 _Amy._

Chloe huffed her annoyance at the Australian disturbing her peace, but typed a reply regardless.

 _ **C: Couldn't have done it without you, Amy!**_

She laid her head back down, but the Australian's response was almost instant. She groaned.

 _ **A: What can I say, your fairy Godmother has game. Bibbidi bobbidi, LAID.**_

She decided to not dignify that with a response. It only took about 20 seconds for a second buzz.

A: So.. you gonna hit that or what?

Chloe felt her cheeks flush. She may have given Swanson a little too much information on how Beca had looked that night. She knew better than to trust Swanson, who had obviously already spoken with her larger friend.

 _ **C: Goodnight, Amy!**_

She shook her head and sat up, pulling her provided laptop from the coffee table beside the bed. It was protocol to immediately begin the reports in order to provide the most accurate information possible.

 _ **Subject exhibited initial signs of extreme distrust, most likely learned residual reactions from past relationships. It appeared subject had engaged in a disagreement with an unknown male earlier that night, leading us to believe subject has a knack for engaging in toxic relationships. After consolation and further friendly contact, subject displayed a change of behavior and was more compliant to questioning. It is more effective to allow subject to approach agent than vice versa.**_

A dirty feeling surfaced from Chloe's stomach as she typed up the report about Beca as if she were a test subject. Her thoughts lingered on the hurt expression on Beca's face she had seen through the bathroom stall crack when she had first entered in frustration.

 _You chose this. It's fine. She doesn't even know you._

She sighed in exhaustion against this thought, and closed the lid to the laptop before sinking back into the couch. She would deal with it in the morning. Thoughts of the reverberating music and dance floor crossed her mind, and she slowly drifted to sleep.

 _BAM BAM BAM_

 _You have got to be fucking kidding me._

Chloe sat in silence for a moment, praying that whoever was outside would leave if she didn't answer.

 _BAM BAM BAM_

She rolled off the couch and limped dazedly to the door, swinging it open slightly.

"This had better be goo-"

Swanson stood in the grungy hallway with his shoulders hunched in anticipation, panting heavily. He looked as if he had run a half marathon, and his eyes had dark circles underneath them. Chloe squinted through the crack in her door at the crazed man who disturbed her slumber. She opened her mouth to tell him off further, when he interjected.

"We've got a body!" Chloe squinted angrily at him in confusion. He looked at her expectantly, then clarified.

"Beale. There's been a murder."


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey y'all! Long time no see! Today we have a deal on fics, two new chapters for the price of one! Double Issue, pitches. Hopefully you like it! Getting some background info for the crime that'll pay off later. Promise. J I also just wanted to say sorry it took me a while to upload. Just so you know college started, and as much as I wish I could write fic for credit I can't. :/ Cmon adulting! One job. Anywho, I've had a lot positive responses, and I just wanted to say thank you so so much for that! You guys are seriously the best and I love writing for you. There have been a couple private messages wondering if I'm abandoning the fic, and I cannot stress this enough, I will NOT abandon this fic. It would bug me too much to leave it unfinished, I could never do that to you guys. Swear. So please enjoy! Again, love yall so much and hope you have a wonderful day._

Bodies had never been Chloe's strong suit. In all reality, some agents thrived off of them. The injustice of death somehow gave them fire. A sense of purpose came with the idea that someone had been wronged, and the victim's body was supposed to be a constant reminder to the agents to catch the killer. But not for Chloe. Being around the dead only took her on a bumpy roller coaster of sadness, depression, and disgust. In the end, a body was just a body to her. An empty shell of what once was.

It wasn't that she hadn't seen corpses before. She had attended funerals and even interacted with a few cadavers for some medical credits in college, but she found that crime scenes were completely different. The junior agent could feel a nauseating aura around where the person had been killed at every crime scene she had visited. In her mind, the location where the act took place was now physically sick. Contaminated. She felt it had been infected by the individual who had deliberately caused the death of another person and left the body in such a precise manner in order to send some sort of misguided message. The entire situation made her want to vomit. Swanson had told her she would get used to it after she reached a certain number of cases, but she knew she would never grow accustomed to staring into lifeless eyes.

Chloe pulled her hunter green parka closer to her body against the chill of the morning air as the partnership waited outside the crime scene. She had tried to dress accordingly but ended up conforming to the panicked protests of Swanson invading her home at 4 AM. She had quickly traded the silk dress for a white tee shirt and a pair of thin jeans. Luckily, she had snatched a coat from the back of her chair on the way out. Now in the frigid morning air, however, she knew if she had been given more time she definitely would have layered up. A brisk wind whistled through the taped off alley way that stood hauntingly before her, causing her to shiver violently.

"Thought getting a job in LA would make it so I wouldn't have to deal with this shit." She heard one of the forensic team members murmur as they zipped their coat up to their chin. "It's like the North Pole out here."

 _If we wait a little longer, maybe we'll get to meet Santa._

She smiled to herself and tried to substitute her panicky death thoughts with the idea of a fat jolly man and penguins hobbling around the eerily deserted street. It was dark, and the only light flickered from a single lamp post about twenty feet away.

 _Ideal location for a murder._

It was dirty, and just as she had suspected, the entire environment felt stale. She had yet to see the actual crime scene, but the poisonous murder aura she knew had spread to all those there. People dressed in uniform filtered in and out of the dark passage, lugging pieces of equipment with unamused faces. An officer who was obviously on-call lingered near the entrance for security purposes, slightly dozing off but blinking himself back to consciousness.

 _It's like working in the morgue. With only one dead body._

She groaned at her own negativity.

 _Go back to Santa, Beale!_

"Beale." Swanson's voice echoed her name back to her thoughts, and he placed a warm cup in her hand. Chloe hummed in gratitude, taking in a large gulp before gasping at the searing burning that traced down her throat.

 _Well that shit's fire._

"Oh. Sorry." Her partner realized. "Be careful, it's hot!" He feigned and attempted to appear apologetic. Chloe glared and sucker punched his shoulder, smiling sheepishly.

He let out a noise of disapproval and rubbed the sore spot. "Good to go?"

Swanson knew she was uncomfortable with the dead. She had told him about the first time she had come across a victim in her cop years. A teenage girl had been raped and stabbed, severing one of her main arteries. She was left to bleed out behind a corner pub. Chloe and her partner at the time had received a call of a breaking and entering on the street, and were informed to investigate. They responded to the call, only to find the limp figure of the girl dipped halfway into a dumpster. At times Chloe still had the gruesome images of the teenager's body flash across her eyelids when she closed her eyes to sleep. How broken, defiled, and empty the young woman looked. The thought of glassy eyes staring into nothingness, with absolutely no activity behind them. Over time the partnership had only seen a few other bodies, mostly constrained to desk work. Still, Swanson could recognize his partner's discomfort whenever they had to encounter a murder or manslaughter. He patted her shoulder reassuringly, and Chloe finally delivered her long overdue answer.

"Yep." She struggled to put on her usually sunny façade but failed miserably. Swanson shot her an expression of concern, obviously not convinced, but ushered her forward anyway. They entered the crime scene. The alleyway was dark and dingy, located a few blocks from the Locked venue. A rat scuttled passed Chloe's shoe, racing toward the end of the police barriers where it tumbled into a storm drain.

"Maybe he's off to cook a meal for his friends." Swanson goaded lightly, obviously trying to lighten Chloe's mood with a reference to one of the many Pixar movies she enjoyed.

 _If he's coming from a murder investigation I don't want to know what he'd be cooking with._

They approached the team of sanitarily clad specialists who were crowded into the corner of the alley. The specialists were all huddled around one area, strangely resembling a football team before a big game. The cramped space was between two buildings that were so tall, Chloe's neck hurt when craned her head to stare up at them. The alley itself was only about 5 feet across, and the view of so many people attempting to cram into the small area could be considered funny in any other situation.

 _Like a clown alley way!_

Swanson passed ahead of her and snatched a clipboard from a nearby intern-looking fellow, and Chloe took a few cautious steps forward to see the damage. She curved around the group of busy observers and technicians, until she finally saw what she had been dreading.

"The victim is—"

"Ralph." Chloe gasped. Even though she had only seen him twice, in true "Chloe form" the redhead felt she had connected with him. As she tried to with all living things, and now unfortunately with dead things. It was just who she was. Ralph was wearing the same pale green polo shirt he had worn the previous night when Chloe had seen him speak with Stacie, only now the puke green color was contrasted with stark red blood stains.

 _Well.. At least the colors are kind of like Christmas?_

She reprimanded her childish thought before taking in the rest of the scene. Ralph's tiny body appeared even smaller in the overwhelming pool of blood it sat in. The Polo was bunched near the top of his chest, and blood trickled down his bare stomach and chest. Chloe tried to breathe through her mouth so she wouldn't pass out, the killer had left the gaping gunshot wounds on full display. Yet, Chloe couldn't take her mind off of Ralph's gray eyes that were fixed on something in the distance.

 _Just like they had been last night.. What were you looking at..?_

The thought dawned on her that though Ralph's eyes had been fidgety and distant when she saw him, they would never move again. A wave of nausea overcame Chloe, and she leaned lightly against Swanson for support. Ralph's face was composed differently than the dead girl Chloe had first encountered. Instead of unresponsive and blank, his expression was frozen in terror. As if someone had taken a snapshot of him directly before he had been killed. Her insides clenched uncomfortably. Even dead, his face was still panicked. Keeping up with the frail composure he had displayed the night before.

 _Guess he really did get scared to death.._

"You know him..?" Swanson glanced over the clipboard at her, clearly intrigued. He distanced himself from where Chloe had leaned in and pulled out a pen to jot down her response. Chloe's attention didn't waver from Ralph's face as she spoke.

"He's the man from the club. The one who spoke with Stacie." She pulled her hair back into a hair tie that was on her wrist and distanced herself further from Swanson. She leaned down closer to study the body, and her chest began to ache.

 _Lock it up, Beale. You didn't even really know him. Just get justice for him like the chief said. He deserves justice._

"What happened?" She swallowed. The junior agent knelt down in order to get a closer view of Ralph's face. The tiny man's blatant terror captivated her, and she felt she couldn't break away.

Swanson pulled her back slightly at the shoulder and motioned to the intern who had surfaced again. The adolescent man was a tall and blonde, with the stature of a bean pole.

"Hey. Put those lanky arms to use and grab Agent Beale some gloves, eh intern?" Swanson directed, and flipped to one of the pages on the clipboard to find the answers to Chloe's previous question.

"Not nearly as interesting as I thought it would be," Swanson whined and puckered his lips in a pout.

"Just because someone isn't stabbed with a knife in the shower and covered in chocolate syrup doesn't make them any less dead, Swanson." She snapped as she watched the intern leave.

He shrugged submissively, then pointed to some information on the sheet. "Looks like two shots to the chest, Glock 20. 10 mm."

 _Oooh. Big caliber. Ouch._

Chloe winced at the excruciating hurt she imagined for Ralph. It was almost too much, but a pair of gloves dropped into her vision and interrupted her thoughts. She stood, and the intern traded the latex for her coffee effortlessly. Swanson started relaying more information.

"Based on body temperature and lividity, the murder window is approximated to be from about 2-4:30 AM." She nodded silently to this and acknowledged the blonde boy who had retrieved a plastic bag from the table stacked with equipment. She tried to flash the intern a grateful smile, but it soon turned pained.

 _Must have happened right after I saw him walk out._

Her heart lurched, and she recalled trying to follow the small man but ended up getting occupied with a certain crystal obsessed Asian. In a way, Ralph's death was partially her fault. She could have protected him. That's why she signed up to be in the forces in the first place, right?

 _Playing the blame game helps no one, Beale._

She snapped the gloves onto each hand and reached for the evidence bag in the young man's grasp.

"What've we got?" She unzipped the heavy plastic and reached inside.

"His belongings were still on him. Keys. Wallet. Money clip. And two thousand bucks was left in the wallet." Chloe raised her eyebrows and opened the wallet to count the bills out to the said amount.

"Bald and rich. At least whoever was pissed enough to kill Daddy Warbucks was kind enough to leave him some weekend spending money." Swanson joked, snorting at his own joke until he read his partner's face of horror, and suddenly becoming overly occupied with his clipboard.

"Read the crime scene, Jess." Was all she had to say.

"This guy thinks I'm funny." Swanson gestured toward the blonde intern who winced a smile in his direction.

"Seen you do better." Chloe quipped, filtering through the rest of the compartments of Ralph's wallet.

 _Not a hit and run._

The redhead dug further into the leather pockets though, clearly searching for something. Swanson squinted at her warily, not having a clue as to what she was doing. She appeared to not find anything and shoved the wallet under her armpit.

"So not a robbery?" She mused, and flipped the money clip over in her hands. Empty. But it was well worn, and the ends were bent to accommodate what would have been a thicker stack of bills.

 _Why would the killer take some money and leave the rest?_

"This looks like it usually has some cash in it recently." She stated, holding the clip up for her partner to see.

"Maybe Warbucks got lucky at the club and blew all the cash?" Swanson shrugged, grinning mischievously.

 _Ew.._

"Locked doesn't have any strippers, you perv." She replied, dropping the money clip back into the bag in disgust.

"You wish. Last night it sounded like you wanted someone to take off their clothes." He chuckled before widening his eyes at her expression and choosing a different subject.

"Hem. No. But as of right now we're assuming he must have spent whatever was in the clip earlier in the night. If there even was anything in there to begin with."

 _I guess.._

"But Locked doesn't have a cover charge. And it's not like the drinks are that expensive.." She trailed off.

"Well not all of us get free drink vouchers because we gave the owner goo-goo eyes." He provoked. But Chloe was too caught up in her own thoughts to negate the comment.

 _Okay fine. Definitely not a robbery… So where is it?_

"And why him..?" She muttered audibly, filtering through Ralph's ID and credit cards repeatedly, before thrusting the entire bundle back to the intern. She crouched down again next to the small man, ignoring her discomfort. Unfortunately, crime shows don't usually portray the stench that comes with a murder. Blood that has been sitting out for hours. A decaying body. Bugs that have swarmed around it. Rats.

 _If Smell-O-Vision ever exists, I will never watch it. Ever._

She hovered over the carcass and turned to Swanson who took a sip from his coffee and returned his attention to the clipboard. "We'll know more when the ME report and background check come in."

 _Just don't barf, and everything will be okay! It's just a normal day._

"Any eye witness accounts?" She choked, pulling her collar up over her nose before sticking her hand into the blood soaked front pocket of Ralph's polo shirt.

"Not yet, other than whoever found him. But they're having badges sweep the streets. So far no one's heard or seen anything."

 _Convenient._

"Too early in the morning. Also from the burns, he probably used a silencer." She peered at the holes and their respective burns.

 _More ouch._

"Wait, so who found the body?" She scrunched her nose in disgust at the blood left on her hand after her invasion of his breast pocket.

"Anonymous tip. A woman called in at 2:12 AM from a pay phone a couple blocks down, claiming she heard a fight in the alley."

"And she's the only one who saw or heard anything?" Swanson merely nodded in response.

"Hm. Check traffic cams on the streets, maybe we can get a visual on whoever our tipster is."

"Already checked. Our killer had to know this wasn't a surveilled street. We got nothing."

 _Of course not._

"What about the wounds?" She pointed to the cavities in Ralph's chest, accidentally grazing his chest. She tried not to gag when his blood overflowed the bullet holes at her touch.

 _Hate it. Hate it._

"The shots were calculated, not sloppy. Whoever killed him knew what they were doing. We think he came back to the alley to meet someone. Things went south. Bam bam. One dead rat man."

"That doesn't rhyme as much as you want it to, Jess." She readjusted Ralph's shirt to how she had originally found it, coming up empty.

 _Hold up_.

"What can I say. I'm one of those modern century slam poets. Everything can rhyme nowadays, Beale. It's the 21st century." She scoffed at his words and pulled the polo a bit further down Ralph's body to test her new theory.

"Hang on.. His shirt was moved."

"Hm?"

"His shirt was moved. Did anyone in forensics push it up like that?"

"You're the only one who's 'moved his shirt', Beale. Which I'm pretty sure is against protocol. Take it easy." She tugged the Polo down the cold torso lightly, trying to not disturb the scene more than she already had. Her theory proved solid.

 _Christmas time. Nailed it, Santa._

"There are bullet holes in the shirt that line up perfectly." Swanson gave her his 'So?' look. "SO, that means the killer shot him, then moved his shirt above his chest before leaving him. They had to be looking for something."

"Okayy…" He said hesitantly. "That's what you draw from this? That they were looking for something." He clicked his tongue and pondered the thought. "OR, he was out too late partying, and got in a brush with the wrong guy."

Chloe started to rifle through Ralph's pants pockets, both front and back.

 _It seriously has to be here somewhere_.

"Hm."

"Is that the most action you've seen all week? I mean I know Mitchell shut you down, but this is just sad." Swanson chided, furrowing his eyebrows in response to her actions.

"Did anyone happen to find a white card on him? Around him?" Chloe blushed furiously, beginning to study the asphalt around her.

"..No? Not that we've seen.." He consulted the board in his hands. "Nope. No white card cataloged." Chloe clenched her fists in frustration, to which he followed up with a "Why?"

"Last night. When Ralph spoke to Stacie, she gave him something." The redhead leaned back onto her haunches to get a better angle at the space surrounding the body.

"You think a scrappy piece of paper has to do with this?" He pointed incredulously to the massacre. Chloe rose to her feet, not spotting any glimpses of white.

"I think any suspicious behavior he was exhibiting in the hours leading up to his death is significant to his murder." She glimpsed down at Ralph and the familiar ache of empathy surfaced. Her eyes began to well up, and she shook her head in another attempt to clear her head.

 _Assignment. Not person. Assignment._

"Again, we'll know more once he gets to the lab for examination." Swanson shrugged nonchalantly, a passive gesture that Chloe knew was code for him begging her to let it go.

 _I can't._

"Sure. But doesn't mean Locked is completely unrelated. There are no coincidences." The redhead stripped off the gloves and handed them to the intern, who started to speak in a soft voice.

"Sorry, Agent, but-"

"Intern. Kind of in the middle of a conversation." Swanson bluntly cut off, still curious as to what Chloe was getting at.

"It's a crime ring, but no one has ever killed anybody there before." He debated. "It's all drugs and cash and the cartel."

"All I'm saying is that Ralph was super panicked when he was speaking to Stacie. Maybe he was worried that whatever he talked to her about that night could get him killed." Chloe took her coffee cup from the young man, who attempted to speak yet again.

"But sir, there's-"

Swanson coughed over the blonde boy in reply to Chloe's theory. "Well.. He might have been right." She looked to her partner sadly.

"Hey. I'm just saying the things I saw."

Swanson opened his mouth to speak but was stopped abruptly.

"Sup turds!" A stout man with a baby face strode forward between the two, shoulder checking Swanson and placing him between the partnership and the body.

"Allen. Homicide Division. I'm the lead detective on this murder." The loud detective had slicked brunette hair, a long coat that reached to his calves, and what Chloe could only describe as "crazy eyes."

 _Guy looks like he's had six coffees already this morning._

"Excuse me?" Chloe inquired, turning to the blond intern who stared at the ground with great purpose.

"I tried to tell you.." The boy whispered in defeat and shrugged. Allen leaned forward and elbowed the intern in the stomach, laughing harshly.

"Didn't try hard enough, did ya Peter Pan?" The intern winced in a weak grin and retreated to the entrance of the alley. Allen pulled a face to the intern's back, then surveyed the dead body in front of him.

"You are doing a wonderfully shitty job it looks like, but let's let the big boys take over from here. Shall we?" He waggled his eyebrows at Swanson and snatched the clipboard away from him. The male agent opened his mouth to protest a second time, but was met with a condescending statement.

"This investigation isn't a threat to national security, is it?" Allen proclaimed, pretending to inspect the clipboard with interest. He then opened his arms in a large gesture, and began ushering the partnership backward and out of the alley.

 _Huh. His voice sounds like Elmo. Who got run over by a train. Four times._

"Well not directly... No. But we have infor-" Chloe tried to reason with him, but Allen disregarded her objections completely.

"I'll be damned if I let the Feds get their dicks all over another one of my cases." Chloe cringed at the callousness of his words, and resisted the urge to strangle the dwarf detective. He folded his arms like a petulant child, and opened his crazed eyes even wider.

 _Wow. SO don't want to know what the metaphor is for the dicks._

"You fuck it up. That's why I said dicks. My cases are sweet sweet virgins, and you always come in and fuck the shit out them. Fuck them. Up. Fucking. Them up. So hard." Allen seemed to have heard her internal question, providing his explanation.

 _Okay. So can't un-hear that._

Silence filled the stretch between the Agents and the Detective. Chloe felt like they were meeting a cartoon character in real life, and the effects of it were causing her to slowly spiral into insanity. Allen waited a beat for a response, but Chloe could tell he eventually decided he didn't care.

"Sooo, why don't y'all just scoot? Skedaddle." He motioned forward with his hand, and wiggled his fingers as if he was shooing away a stray dog.

"Detective." Chloe tried a second attempt, noting Allen eyes getting progressively wider as she spoke. "I can really help-"

"We don't need your junior agent ass-dick help, Beale!"

If you say dick enough times, does it lose all meaning?

Allen wiped his mouth having spat uncontrollably from his last exclamation. "Did you not hear the thing I said about dicks?! Go back to playing house all day with the Mrs, while the rest of us get the real work done."

 _This muppet wants to get mauled._

Chloe's shoulders tensed, and she started to step around Swanson in order to have a proper discussion with the detective.

"Whoa! Bumper!" Swanson cut in, trying to alleviate some tension.

Chloe whirled around to her partner in disbelief, while Allen's words simmered under her skin. She knew undercover work to a homicide detective seemed like a vacation. No cases to close, holed up in a cushy apartment with no official "quota" to meet. She also knew how she had to appear to the other departments, particularly since she was so new and already getting the benefits of a seasoned agent.

 _Still doesn't mean he can treat me like shit._

She had expected Swanson to come to her aid, not to try to reason with the idiot that he apparently knew. For some reason, that infuriated her. Chloe was usually pretty easy to get along with unless you really managed to piss her off. Not much had the capacity to do so, besides betrayal, lack of justice, and screwing with someone she cared about. Then she was a woman scorned times a thousand and could burn cities to the ground. Swanson had only encountered angry Chloe a couple times, but that was enough for him to know when she was reaching the brink.

 _I'll fucking run over this Elmo eight times if I have to._

She glowered at Allen, and felt Swanson push her further behind him in order to break the glares that were being shared between the two. At the mention of his ridiculous name, Allen had tensed. His face slowly contorted into something Chloe had only seen in a fun house, and it took all she had to not laugh.

"Beale's mission directly overlaps with your victim-" Swanson tried to continue, progressively holding Chloe back.

"Mmmkay." Allen hissed as if he was speaking to a child and increasing his already high tone up a few levels. "So DON'T call me that, unless you want me to kill you where you stand." Swanson held his hands up in a mock surrender. "Secondly, if this case does lead to the greenie's plead for herpes, then we'll be the ones to trace it there."

Chloe opened her mouth in outrage, but Swanson interjected. "Alright. Well. Give us a call if you need anything."

He smiled cheekily, and Allen scoffed back in disbelief. "Right. Sure. That'll happen."

Swanson pulled Chloe closely behind him to the SUV where they had parked. "Pulled" here having the definition of "dragged." When they arrived, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and shoved him angrily against the side of the car.

"What the hell, Jess?!" She had hit him harder than she intended, and Swanson scrunched his face into a small painful smile.

 _No. No guilt, Beale!_

She stomped around to the front of the vehicle, and slammed her hands in outrage onto the hood.

"Whoa! Watch the goods!" He used his sleeve to rub the spots where she had assaulted his baby.

"Watch the goods?!" She fumed, sensing the panic in his expression. "We could help with that case.. And you're worried about the goods!?" He shrugged casually, and gave no effort to argue.

 _Good._

Chloe continued her tangent, temper boiling. "You just let him walk all over us! We're the Feds! We're big brother! I thought the upgrade meant I wouldn't have to deal with shit like this!?" She threw her arms into the air for emphasis.

"It's not like he was actually going to let us stay on! It's not our jurisdiction!" He defended, though he was clearly distracted with polishing the abused spot of his car.

"Ralph is directly linked to our assignment!"

 _How is he not getting this._

"Take a step back, Beale. A lot of people go to that club. A lot of people club on Friday nights. It's all circumstantial. It could be completely unrelated. We wouldn't know."

 _He's right. It's all circumstantial._

Chloe felt her heart rate begin to return to normal and she leaned against the car in defeat. "But he won't find anything! I could totes give them leads." She murmured.

Swanson sidled up next to her, admiring the light of the lamp post in the distance. "Do you really think if you told Bumper about a dinky piece of paper you may or may not have seen be given to our vic last night, that he would believe you? Or care?"

"Well.. No.. But-"

"But nothing. As much as we hate it, he's right. Minus the dicks. And fucking. I hope. We just need to focus on our mission. By doing that, maybe we can solve Ralph's murder if it really is related."

 _Before the Oompa Loompa who fell in radioactive waste does._

"Fine." She turned and tugged at the passenger's side door impatiently until Swanson unlocked the SUV. He looped around her to his side of the car, and they both hopped into the cab. She faced him in disbelief.

"But also. Bumper?" She emphasized the ridiculousness of his name. "Really?"

Swanson chuckled lowly. "You can't blame him too much for being a jerk. His mom hated him enough to name him that." He put the keys in the ignition and started the engine, and Chloe let out an uncontrollable giggle.

"Now let's go pay Ms. Mitchell a visit." He announced, and smiled wildly in her direction to get a reaction.

Chloe could feel his eagerness though, and shrugged indifferently. She still couldn't seem to let go of one thing.

"But.. Cmon. You seriously know that guy? Like from before? He's a complete ass!"

It was Swanson's turn to laugh. "You know I actually do. He dated Amy for a while."

He glanced over his shoulder and backed out of the space.

"What?!"

 _But yeah. That makes sense._


	5. Chapter 5

"Maybe just exfoliate your entire face in it next time, Jess."

The male agent scoffed his embarrassment and dabbed sloppily at the barbeque sauce that had dripped from his burger onto his dark FBI issue suit pants.

"I can't help I taste delicious!" He retorted, and readjusted the burger in his hand before taking another hearty bite. "These things always take ten years. The only bonus is the refreshments."

The past few days had been pretty uneventful. A week had passed since the crime scene, and each night Chloe had taken up residence at the Locked bar. Pip had let her in with no hesitation, and she spent most of the night chewing nervously on cherry stems after downing her complimentary drinks that were replenished regularly courtesy of Stacie. She surveilled the back room and second floor, waiting to catch another glimpse of the club owner with no luck. Chloe could tell Stacie was starting to get concerned about her well-being, cutting her off about an hour before last call. Despite her dedication, the junior agent did not encounter Beca again. She deliberately hung around the bathroom where she had interrupted Beca's break, but either the brunette was extremely busy or had changed her schedule after their restroom meeting.

The lack of contact with Beca had forced the agents to take a different tactic.

It was 2 AM and instead of Chloe dutifully occupying the bar, she and Swanson were huddled in the parked SUV outside of Locked. At about the three-hour mark of their stakeout, the spotlights that lit up the club sign had flickered off, and darkness had enveloped the front of the building. Pip had been on duty but left shortly after the lights faded.

" _That's_ the guy I was going to have to dump a bucket of water on? Damn, Beale."

Pip surveyed the front of the building until he was satisfied with his work, and lumbered off to hail a cab.

She sunk lower into her seat so the bouncer wouldn't see her. "I go big or go home."

"Unless the target is 5" 1' with a disposition of Grumpy the dwarf?" He pestered, getting progressively unruly as the night went on.

"Keep that kind of negativity to yourself, Swanson." He rolled his eyes, not in the mood to hear one of her "positive energy" lectures.

They spent the rest of the night like this, side by side, taking bets as to what time the hobo who had fallen asleep on a bench at the end of the street would fall off. The front of the club remained deserted, but they had yet to see Mitchell exit the building. The venue had no back exit, so if the club owner was going to surface it would be from the front. The bureau had called Swanson earlier, emphasizing how crucial it was to find where the club owner ventured after her shifts. So there they sat, for hours. Until the growls of Swanson's stomach had proved too much, and they dipped out for a bite.

"We could have missed her while we were picking up food for that beast of yours." She jammed her thumb accusingly towards his stomach and pulled a pair of binoculars from underneath her seat to peer yet again at the entrance of the club.

 _Time to Nancy Drew this shit._

"We can always come back tomorrow night, Beale." He pulled at a tomato that was slipping out of the bottom of his sandwich and popped it into his mouth. "Don't be such a drama queen."

Her brow furrowed at this, and she was about to tell him off when she saw movement in her peripherals.

"We've got something." She hissed, shoving another napkin at her partner and peering through the scope of her binoculars.

"It's Mitchell," Swanson said, readjusting in his seat with his mouth full and a dribble of sauce leaking down his chin. The short woman had slipped through a door on the side of the building, looking over her shoulder anxiously. She was dressed again in all black, with a looser blouse than the night before, but the same golden accents and heels.

 _Maybe she'll let me borrow the ninja outfit sometime._

Chloe sat up a little straighter in her seat with the corner of her mouth lifted in amusement, and Swanson let out a deep belch that instantly changed her expression. "Would you please put the damn sandwich down?"

 _Amateur hour._

Swanson groaned in regret but shoved the burger in the greasy fast food bag at his feet. Chloe rolled her eyes and peered through the lenses again.

"Looks like she doesn't want to be followed," Chloe stated regarding Beca's skittish mannerisms.

"Well.. Sucks to suck I guess." Swanson wiped his hands on his pants and started the SUV, keeping the headlights turned off in order to carefully trail the rightfully paranoid woman.

"She's heading North. Where's her car?" Chloe set down the binoculars and squinted at the club owner, who had secured the club's doors and begun her walk down the dark street.

"Why is she walking alone at this time of night? It's so not safe. Especially for someone so little." Chloe's voice went up in concern at the last word, and the cadence change did not go unnoticed. Swanson turned slowly from the steering wheel, raising his eyebrows knowingly.

"Really?"

"What?"

He folded his arms in disbelief that she could be so dense. "You think she's cute."

"Wha- No!" Chloe immediately tried to deny, wringing her fingers in anxiety. "It's just too dangerous! She should have a rape whistle or something!"

"Oh my God. You totally want to bone her!"

The redhead tried to let out a noise of disgust, but Swanson saw straight through her front.

"You _do_! You think she's a cute little-lost animal and you want to protect her!"

"I do NOT!" Chloe blushed deeply, cheeks reddening to match her hair.

"You want her to swoon in your arms damsel-in-distress style, and then you want to bone her!"

Chloe felt her mouth pop open, but couldn't find the muscles to close it.

"Can we just focus on the mission, please?! This isn't the plot to one of your little movies." She sputtered, finally regaining control of her body.

 _Lock it up, Beale._

"Sorry I'm not focused on _that_ mission as you are. You've known her a week and you're already looking at her like she's my burger." The reminder prompted the curly haired man to drool, and he reached under the center console to retrieve his snack again.

"Shut up." The redhead protested, and swatted his hand back to the steering wheel. "Here. She's turning left on seventh."

The agents lingered back, waiting to follow the brunette down her serpentine route through various streets and avenues. Chloe attempted to jot down the directions leading from the club.

 _Left. Left. Right. Alley. Backroad. Right. Left._

After making a third U-turn having lost and relocated Mitchell, Swanson huffed in frustration. "My hell, no wonder no one usually finds her. She's like one of the city rats."

"Mmm. More like a mouse." Chloe thoughtlessly corrected, pointing to a turn Beca had made and redirecting Swanson's driving.

Left.

"You only want her to be a mouse because calling her roadkill puts a damper on the mood."

Chloe shrugged him off, but didn't start an argument. He wasn't wrong.

 _What? No. Right._

Eventually, the tiny lady approached a prestigious looking building. It towered above the surrounding structures with an authority Chloe couldn't explain. Except that it felt like extremely important people lived there.

 _The bureau couldn't have stationed my apartment in there?_

The complex could have been invisible. It had glass panels lining its entire exterior that reflected everything in sight, and was kept unusually clean. A doorman at the front of the building greeted Beca and opened the large entrance door tiredly for the brunette. She nodded her thanks to the man, giving him what Chloe assumed was a tip from her pocket.

 _Well working that night shift must be shit. Good for him._

"Looks like we found the mouse's hiding hole." Swanson smacked his lips, having retrieved the burger and taking furious bites before Chloe could notice.

"Hm. Should I follow her in..?" She said dazedly, and gripped the handle of the car door in anticipation. "Just to see what floor she's on."

"As much as I know you love people bursting into your personal space, no." He sniggered. "Maybe not the best way to approach a rodent."

Chloe winced.

 _Mouse_.

"So.. we wait? Again?" She relinquished her clutch on the car door handle and leaned back into her chair.

 _I'm in this stupid car more than my own apartment._

"That's what a stakeout is, Beale." He bluntly reminded, and reclined his seat fully back. This action didn't negate Chloe from staring intently at the tower.

 _Well this assignment is going to shit._

Frustration bubbled into Chloe's throat. She was supposed to be getting credible intel from Mitchell, but all developments were at a near standstill. It would be so much easier if Beca was like a normal person. She could more or less usually sweet talk whatever she wanted out of the average person. In not a creepy way. But she usually could figure out what made people tick, what they wanted to talk about. Letting them know they could trust her. But not with Mitchell. A hot flash of anger crossed her thoughts.

 _Why can't people be more open? It's not that hard. Just make friends. Let people in. Not difficult._

The redhead immediately felt a tinge of regret at her rashness. Swanson and the chief always had to remind her she was a unique person with unique outlooks. It was just who she was, ever since she was younger. She had always tried to dig into not only friend's feelings, but random strangers. It was something the police academy had viewed as a weakness. Her yearning to appreciate and comfort all mankind. She just wanted to understand them, and when they didn't let her in, it was excruciatingly irritating. Particularly with the brunette who had infamously put up stone cold walls to all those around her. Another issue was Chloe's knack for instant gratification.

 _It's only been a couple days. She's shown more signs of interaction with you than any other agent. Just Hakuna your tatas, Beale._

Chloe reclined her own seat, but craned her neck so she could perfectly see the entrance of the tall apartment complex.

 _You're gonna get hit with the friendship stick pretty fuckin hard, Mitchell._

"Beale."

Mmm.

" _Beale_."

 _Chloe can't come to the phone right now._

"BEALE!" Chloe woke to Swanson shaking her shoulders energetically, his barbeque breath on her face.

"She's moving out. Rise and shine."

The sun had risen slightly higher than to what Chloe usually woke up to at the apartment, so she assumed it had to be mid-morning.

"How long was I out?"

Swanson snorted and gestured to an English muffin and orange juice for her to eat on the center console. "You tanked pretty hard. Good thing one of us was doing our job."

She picked up the food, and glanced at the clock.

 _10:00?_

"Holy shit. Sorry Jess!"

"Just focus on the target, sleepy head." He teased, and fumbled around trying to find his keys to start the SUV. "She's been talking to the door dude for like ten minutes."

Chloe readjusted her seat and caught sight of the Beca. She looked so tiny next to the huge buildings, it was a wonder she didn't get lost on her labyrinth like escapade from the previous night. This morning, to Chloe's surprise, the woman was dressed in something other than black. Signature skinny jeans on, but with a light blue heathered tee. It contrasted nicely against her skin.

 _Why does that matter?_

She wore dark gray Chuck Taylors that she shuffled from side to side, and was angling her head up to speak to the tall doorman. The man and club owner both held a cup of coffee, and unless the doorman took impromptu coffee runs during his shift, Chloe guessed Beca had brought it down for him.

 _Well that's adorable._

Beca finished off her cup, and tossed it into a nearby bin, waving to the doorman who smiled politely.

"How's it coming over there, Swan Song?" The female agent said through the corner of her mouth, determined not to lose Mitchell who was now starting to walk down the opposite end of the street she had entered on.

"Ah! Got it!" Swanson victoriously brandished his keys, and pulled the vehicle around.

 _Gonna get him a necklace to keep those on._

"She has something else in her hand," Chloe noted, referring to a large square envelope Beca appeared to be carrying.

"She didn't go in with it last night. Maybe a package?" A semi crossed in front of the SUV, temporarily blocking Chloe's view.

"The post office is on the other side of town," Chloe recalled, having studied the routes of the city for recon. Swanson grumbled, keeping up the pursuit. They followed her about a block, which was difficult seeing as traffic was moving faster than Beca was walking. Chloe watched in interest as Beca weaved through families and businessmen, giving an old man's Border Collie a small pat, and flourishing a treat from her pocket for the animal before crossing the street.

 _The mouse definitely has a soft side.. Could be useful._

Beca ducked under a nearby diner's awning, taking a sudden interest in something that sat in the window display.

 _Well if anything we've learned she likes breakfast food, I guess._

Chloe basically pressed her face against the passenger's side window as Beca broke her attention from the display, and proceeded forward while rubbing an itch from her nose. The club owner pulled out a device from her pocket, and unraveled a pair of headphones, placing a bud into each ear. Chloe mused as to what she was listening to.. She owned a club. Probably all R&B and EDM and other music that had acronyms Chloe knew nothing about.

 _It doesn't matter what she listens to._

They followed Mitchell for a few blocks until she stopped abruptly and jerked a door open next to a small lemon stand, slipping inside.

"Looks like she's stopping," Swanson observed and pulled up next to a meter as inconspicuously as possible about 30 feet back from the business Beca had entered.

"A record store?" The inconspicuous door's sign read. The thick envelope suddenly made more sense. Chloe's heart slightly sank, they were sincerely tracking Mitchell running her errands.

 _Professional Stalkers. Why I signed up with the FBI._

"What are you waiting for? Get in there before we lose her!" Swanson pressured, hitting the release button on Chloe's seatbelt and pushing her out the door.

"But-Now? I don't look-" Chloe gestured to the full length of her body, disgusted with her rumpled stake-out tee and jeans.

"You're shitting me right now, right? You look fine! Why would it matter what you look like?" Swanson asked in an angrily questioning tone, shoving her halfway off the seat.

 _It shouldn't matter. Like she's gonna care._

"MOVE!" He leaned over, opened the door, and she fell onto the sidewalk outside.

 _Keep your panties on._

She scrambled to her feet, readjusted herself in her reflection of the SUV window, shot a glare to Swanson for good measure, and approached the same door the brunette had. She noticed the handle of it was surprisingly antique, compared to the rest of the modern shops around it. In fact, she would have missed the door completely if Beca hadn't stopped in.

"I swear-" Swanson called from the now rolled down window of the car. Before he could continue to tell her off, she turned the knob and entered the dusky store.

Rows and rows of music packed shelves lined the little front. It was like a tightly knit library of music, with shelves crammed in every space that was available.

 _Pretty sure that's a fire hazard._

Chloe walked quietly down one of the winding aisles, and artists stared down at her from posters plastered across the shop's walls. It had to be an underground place that not many knew about. Aside from the employee working the front desk and the hipster at a nearby display, the store was vacant. Chloe stretched onto her tip toes to find the smaller girl.

Bingo.

Beca had taken up residence in the R&B section, filtering through records in a plastic bin. She would pull one out, inspect the back of the album for a few seconds, nod silently as if she was agreeing with the artist of the record about something, then place it gently back in. Chloe lurked around a couple of shelves, slowly closing in on the brunette. Beca completed her assessment of four more albums, and then slowly pushed the R&B bin back into place. The female agent thought then she might catch her in some act, but the brunette simply picked up another stack of vinyl.

 _Just pick one. R &B all sounds the same. Pick one!_

Chloe pulled out her phone as Beca examined a poster hanging nearby, and typed a message furiously to her partner.

 _ **C: We've caught her red-handed buying music legally. Hope you're happy.**_

She hit send and looked back up, noticing a change in Beca's location. She had retreated from the other records, and pulled out an empty plastic bin a couple rows down similar to those that held music in the aisle. The shorter girl then slipped something Chloe could only guess was the white record envelope she had been carrying earlier into the container.

 _Why would you leave an unmarked record in a record store?_

Beca glanced around warily, and slid the lighter bin back into place. Chloe pursed her lips.

 _Secrets secrets are no fun._

The redhead drew closer to the brunette's hiding place, picking up albums randomly to appear occupied as the owner of the shop stared at her suspiciously. She could feel his gaze burning into the back of her head, but her focus never left Beca. Apparently her single-mindedness was a little too intense, because the record store owner had stepped around the front counter and was about to confront Chloe.

"Is there anything I can help you with, ma'am?" He eyeballed the unconvincing stack of records Chloe now cradled under her arm.

"I'm fine! Thank you." She smiled sweetly, and attempted to give the bearded man the brush off. She swiveled around, but found a lack of brunette.

 _Is she fucking Houdini?_

"We're having a 3 for 15 deal, with all those that'll be a sweet score." He pushed his horn-rimmed glasses further up his nose, and squinted with concern. It was then that Chloe realized how shifty she must look, scoping the store and creeping down the aisles.

 _Never stole anything my whole life, won't start now, Grandpa._

Regardless, Chloe nodded to pacify the older man and smiled, praying if she made enough eye contact his reservations would be put to rest.

"That's an interesting spread you've got there." A salty voice rang in Chloe's ears. She spun around in surprise, expecting the brunette to have left while she was getting the shoplift stare down.

Chloe stammered out a surprised, "Oh!" processing that Beca had materialized magically behind her.

 _She should work in Vegas._

The brunette waved the older man off, as if she knew what he suspected of Chloe. Reluctantly, he retreated back to his post at the front of the store but appeared to trust in Beca's judgment.

"Hi!" Chloe glazed over her surprise in sweetness, hopefully Beca didn't notice.

"..Hi." Beca returned hesitantly with a thin-lipped grin that stretched wider the longer they stood there. The hamster wheel inside of Chloe's head spun around a million times, but she couldn't quite find the phrase she needed.

 _Professional. Words. Use them._

"Spread?" She referred to the first line Beca had spoken. "Take a girl on a date first."

The club owner guffawed, and Chloe remembered how much she loved rendering her speechless. That's how these situations were supposed to be, not the other way around. Yet Beca had managed to surprise Chloe several instances in the small time they had known each other. The shorter woman rolled her eyes, and tugged at the stack of records under Chloe's arm, pulling them free. She faced the covers towards the ceiling gently, and ran her finger across the artwork on the covers as she browsed through Chloe's selections.

"Wow.." She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise and held up the first record on Chloe's stack. "The Spice Girls. And Simon & Garfunkel.. Either you're super emotionally confused, or you enjoy a thrill."

Chloe cursed herself for not actually checking the artists she had grabbed from the shelves, but decided to play it cool. She reached over and plucked the record from Beca's thin fingers, and started looking it over in fake fascination.

"Well you know! Really clears the sinuses in the morning!" Chloe attempted to joke, but her voice broke.

Idiot.

Miraculously, Beca cracked a sheepish smile and leaned against one of the deep tables that held record bins, quickly shuffling through the rest of Chloe's choices. When she finished noting each one, she shook her head in a disbelief and straightened back up.

"Maybe not the best idea looking at those, you'll get whip lash." She shrugged and returned the rest of records to Chloe, the cold skin of her hand brushing the redhead's lightly. Chloe's heart skipped.

"Do you come here often? Sorry that's such a line." Chloe could swear she saw Beca flush deeply when she spoke the words, flicking her ring finger with her thumb anxiously. It seemed to be a nervous habit, and the agent thought it was the most adorable thing she had ever seen.

 _Oh my god. Jesse was right._

Chloe hadn't replied, so Beca surged forward with the rest of her thought like a runaway train.

"I mean that no one really knows about this place." She blurted. "It's super on the down low."

 _That's fine. There's no rules against thinking someone is cute._

"Oh! Well.. I was just walking down the street and something about it caught my attention!" Chloe winked salaciously to the brunette, tilting her head with a dazzling smile. Beca's eyes seemed to light up a bit, before shutting completely back down and she took a step backward.

"A solid brown door caught your attention." Her words were layered with skepticism, and she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

 _Oop. Shutting down. Houston, we need a tactic change._

Chloe went back to actually looking at different records, pulling out the worn vinyl and gazing at it in appreciation. She shrugged at Beca's judgments. "It's all in the mystery! The world was flat until someone took a boat trip!"

The club owner scoffed in disbelief, "I don't even know how to begin to acknowledge that." But stared at Chloe as if she really wanted to understand how a real person could speak those words.

Chloe continued to dwindle over the different music, in attempt to mimic the same actions Beca had executed earlier, but with her own flair. She'd admit she might have swiveled her hips a bit on her way to the other side of the deep table. Beca had taken extreme interest with a vintage _The Police_ poster that was hanging on the wall adjacent to the table. Chloe extracted a particularly well-loved album, and gazed over the top of it until stormy blue eyes met her own.

 _She's not even that cute. She's alright, I guess. If she wore brighter colors and smiled a bit more._

Their eye contact lingered for a little longer than what was comfortable, and Beca's lips puckered into an embarrassed smile, until she realized what she was doing and looked hastily back to the band poster. Chloe giggled internally.

 _Damn it._

"Well.. Maybe you need a little more mystery in your life." She couldn't help herself. The words spilled out before she could stop them.

"If all the mystery I'd be getting was a door, I think I'd pass." Beca snorted, and stood up straight, circling the table to end up on Chloe's side.

 _That was strangely.. Not negating what I meant.._

"Hey! Foreigner." Beca pointed to the record sleeve Chloe held, and took a few steps closer to her, nodding intensely. "That I can get behind."

When Beca entered her space, Chloe instantly became hyper aware of everything around her. Beca, the poster, the shop manager who still glared at her from behind the counter. But the only thing she could focus on was how amazing Beca smelled. Like vanilla and the sea combined. Crisp and sweet but deep and dark. She didn't know how those two things could mesh so perfectly, but she wanted to wrap herself up in it.

 _Target, Beale._

She set the vinyl down and turned, the closest she had ever been to Beca.

"Oh, don't pretend you've never liked Spice Girls." She sparkled, picking up the mentioned album and tucking it under her arm affirmatively.

Beca shrugged and moved back out of Chloe's bubble. "Meh. I think all music can have its moment." She picked through a couple records. "That's why it was produced. Especially if it became popular to someone. Means the artist had to of been doing something right."

Chloe's chest filled a bit at Beca's words. She had felt the same way for many years but not been able to put it into words.

"Even Spice Girls?" She squeaked.

"Even Spice Girls," Beca affirmed, and smiled softly. Chloe's returned grin lit up the entire store, until Beca spoke again. "But only Mel B. Because that girl can kick my ass."

It was the first time Chloe had belly laughed since she had arrived in LA and it felt amazing. Just like how her smell confused her, Chloe couldn't comprehend how someone so surly and bitter could be so hilarious.

She regained composure of herself, and wiped a tear from her eye. "Well. Color me impressed, Ms. Mitchell."

The club owner winced. "I said it was _Beca_. Call me _Beca_. _Please_."

"Beca." Chloe let the name linger in her mouth, but this time she thought she could see the club owner hanging off of it as well. It was then she noticed Beca was suddenly holding another unmarked record. It looked similar to the one she carried that morning, however, instead of a soft white color this one was a light blue. Her eyes flickered down quickly, and she noticed Beca follow her gaze.

 _Change the subject._

"Well. In other news, I think I owe you a drink for all the ones you graciously gave me." She winked.

Beca barked a laugh. "I know, Stacie told me how much you've been hanging out. It's been like a week, woman. Should I be concerned? That was a lot of drinks."

Chloe shrugged innocently. "Stacie takes care of me."

Beca snorted yet again and began picking at her black nail polish. "Stacie doesn't take care of anything that doesn't have three sets of genitals."

"I don't know if that's supposed to be a weird diss.. But.. She doesn't keep me caffeinated. So.. Coffee?" Chloe's question hung in the air heavier than she expected.

Beca swayed back and forth awkwardly for a second, clearly unsure of what to do. Her eyes shifted nervously around the record store before she spoke. "Uhm.. that's okay. I've already had my coffee this morning."

 _Liar_.

"So two cups of coffee will kill you?" Chloe pouted her lips, hoping to score some points.

"People have died over less." Beca's words brought Ralph's mauled corpse to Chloe's mind, and she contained a shiver.

 _Ain't that the truth._

"Are you trying to tell me I'm killing you here?" Chloe teased, and Beca shrugged to her in response. "Don't be such a drama queen. Come on. I insist!" The agent finally set all of the records from under her arm onto a nearby shelf and grabbed Beca's hand eagerly, pulling her close. The brunette grimaced, and yanked away quickly in a reflex motion.

 _More time before physical touch. Noted._

Beca looked panicked for a moment, but regained her composure and pointed toward the abandoned records. "Don't you want those?"

"Mmm. I found something better." Chloe relinquished her presence again from Beca's bubble, but flashed one of her brilliant smiles. Beca grunted, and backed up a bit not taking her eyes from Chloe's. Chloe smiled gently and approached her, placing her arm around the smaller woman but refraining from actually touching her. Beca's shoulders hunched briefly, but returned to normal almost immediately.

"I'm not getting rid of you. Am I?" Beca groaned as Chloe ushered her towards the exit. The store manager seethed behind the cash register, clearly upset with their lack of purchases and extended loitering.

"Nope!" Chloe popped the "p" and beckoned for Beca to follow her onto the street outside.

"Fine. But I'm pretty sure this could be considered kidnapping."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey friends! First of all, I love all y'all sooo much! Every time I post I'll always thank you for your kind words. Seriously, thank you! It helps me know I'm actually doing something right! Haha! Because I'm super paranoid, and worry that everything I put up isn't going to be good enough! Sooooo it's fine. Haha! WHICH leads us to our next order of business. I'd love to have your opinion on something! Especially since I'm writing for you! So here's the deal, fam. I do have an overall plan for this fic. Though it is taking a little longer, (come on college, just let the children write), but I just thought I'd ask for opinions about the length for this fic. I'm at a point where I could either add or take away length of the story line, but before make any decisions I honestly I want to know what y'all think. I have anywhere from 20-30 chapters structured so far. Is this too long? How many chapters would you like? Or even a word count? Roughly each chapter I try to keep at about 5000. Let me know! Thanks again for being the best fandom. Y'all are so amazingly kind and awesome, and I appreciate you so much. Loves! -Smidge**

The redhead roughly led a complaining Beca down damp asphalt of the street leading from the record shop, and directed them into the diner she had seen the shorter woman lingering outside of earlier. At the sight, the brunette had tried to stifle what Chloe assumed was excitement, but failed.

"This place okay?" Chloe asked. Beca licked her lips at the window display, which Chloe now realized was an arrangement of powdered pastries.

Beca quickly regained her composure. "Erm.. Sure." She grunted. Chloe checked her amusement and opened the door graciously with a warm smile.

"What a gent.." The brunette grunted, followed quickly with a muffled "Thanks" as she passed. The waitress led the pair to a corner booth. The seats were pine green and covered with a thin layer of something sticky, and holes spattered across the headrest.

"You a window girl?" Beca motioned to the table with raised brows.

 _Best to stay out of sight._

"Nah. You can have it." Chloe plopped down cheerily and gestured across from her. Beca sidled in warily, placing the record envelope from the store gently to her right, and pulling her phone from her back pocket to set on the end of the table.

 _So the untraceable woman has a phone._

Chloe had been staring at Beca for a good few minutes while she feigned leafing through heavy plastic of a diner menu. They ordered their drinks which soon arrived, which led to Beca sipping deeply from a caramel macchiato. Chloe thought the club owner's choice of drink was a bit unorthodox for the sour and grumbly façade Beca usually put on. Chloe's own drink was just plain coffee, sure she ordered extra whipped cream, but for the most part it was pretty plain. More and more Chloe was discovering how big of a soft spot her assignment actually had.

 _Other agents must just have not taken the time to get to know her._

Beca fidgeted uncomfortably in the seat opposite of Chloe under her gaze, but not meeting her eyes.

 _God, it's like she can sense sincerity._

Quiet jazz music trickled through the background. An occasional laugh from another table disrupted the general quietness of the eatery. Beca took a few more deep sips from her oversized mug, and skimmed further into her own menu.

 _It's been at least ten fucking minutes. Hellooooo?! Look at me!_

At least ten minutes passed like this. Silence. Until Beca set down her bowl sized mug and Chloe had to stifle a giggle.

 _Ha! She belongs in a Got Milk commercial._

A thin line of foam traced Beca's upper lip, and she didn't seem to notice. Chloe couldn't tear her eyes away. The brunette then unexpectedly crossed her eyes in a daze, and wrinkled her nose, letting out a high-pitched sneeze.

 _Adorable. Like a fucking puppy._

Chloe blinked the thought furiously out of her mind, and Beca squinted watery eyes cynically back at the smirk of the redhead.

 _Dammit, Swanson._

"You've got a little something…"

A husky voice broke the silence. The tall waitress approached the table ready to take the food portion of their orders. She looked expectantly towards Beca, who flushed immediately and wiped at her face desperately with her sleeve. Chloe held up a brown paper napkin, and Beca snatched it from her quickly, dabbing even more at the moustache.

 _There goes the foam puppy._

"We're gonna need another few minutes." Chloe smiled cordially to the waitress while Beca tried to compose herself. The blonde rolled her eyes and walked back towards the kitchen.

"You could have told me I was fucking foaming Chaplin earlier. Looked like an idiot.." Beca grumbled behind rustles of rough paper, rubbing her face raw. Despite her efforts, Beca had successfully smeared a streak of whipped cream across her left cheek. Chloe giggled graciously.

"More like a half-assed Santa." She chuckled and reached across the table. Beca's eyes widened immediately at Chloe's hand, and she flinched back immediately.

 _Oooookay. Dial it back._

Chloe relinquished her hand and flicked at the corner of her fork.

 _Actually, no. This is pretty stupid._

"I won't bite you, you know." She chided and dipped the fork for a generous helping of whipped cream that topped her own drink. "Even though right now you look sweet enough to eat!" She shoved a forkful of cream into her mouth and grinned through chipmunk cheeks.

Beca groaned at Chloe's wordplay. "I just don't do the whole. Touching… Thing.." At the word "touching" she wiggled her fingers with a disgusted expression like she was performing some sort of voodoo. Beca's phone buzzed lightly from the end of the table.

 _Phone is active.. Trackable._

"Well. I won't hurt you, silly. Promise." Chloe beamed, glancing at the device, and reaching confidently across the table again. "And you do have shit on your face."

Beca grimaced, ignoring her phone, and gave up appeared to give up her resistance.

 _Cmon little fella. Resistance is futile._

Chloe motioned her fingers for Beca to lean closer to her. "Fine."

She moved in Chloe's direction. The agent grinned her approval, and quickly brushed her thumb across Beca's cheek, cleaning off the remaining sticky substance. Maybe lingering a little longer than necessary. Chloe would bet Beca's skin prickled at her touch but was too distracted by the softness of pale skin. Chloe was reminded of her childhood velveteen rabbit when she grazed Beca's cheekbone.

 _Just wanna rub my face all over it.._

"You do make an adorable foamy monster though." Chloe goaded, pulling her hand back and licking the excess cream from her thumb. She leaned slightly to the end of the table for a glance at the device's screen, unsuccessful.

 _Dammit._

"I'm not four years old." Beca hissed, wiping her face again with her sleeve. "And I'm not cute." She spat the last word like venom and stuck out her bottom lip in a pout.

 _Okay, so Disney pouting doesn't help the cute factor. Snap out of it, Beale._

"So.. How long have you owned the club?"

Chloe's blurted inquiry hung in the air, as Beca had created a fortress behind her diner menu. Unfortunately, this question sounded extremely similar to the tape that Chloe had mocked before of a different inexperienced agent's attempt to interrogate the club owner.

… _You're an idiot. Exactly like those other agents. You blew it. LA is long gone. Get ready to ship back. It's over. Shut it down. YA PIECE OF SHI-_

"I love this song," Beca responded shockingly and faced the back of the pamphlet toward her to view the specials. A soft piano driven song drifted through the retro diner, and Chloe recognized it as Dave Brubeck from one of her father's old records. That was where Chloe's love for music had started. Dusting off old vinyl with her father on rainy afternoons when he played his favorites for her. They spent countless afternoons in the attic for hours going over the classics. It was one of her favorite memories of him, until he got sick.

"You know Brubeck?" Chloe asked, clearly surprised. She hadn't met anyone in her years of college who was interested in the classics. Most of her friends were top 40 Billboard type people. Beca set down the menu and stared back challengingly. Her slate blue eyes lit up with fire.

 _Damn._

The brunette closed her eyes and pointed toward the ceiling where the soft melody emanated. "This is the best part."

The piano piece broke into a solo bridge, and Beca immediately placed both hands on the scrubbed table top, pressing down the melody on imaginary keys. Her head swayed a bit and her lips curled slightly, enjoying the swell of the song.

 _Officially gonna have to buy new underwear now, holy shit._

The solo ended. "I may be dead on the inside, but I know good music when I hear it." Her metallic eyes bored into Chloe's, who felt a lump creep up her throat.

 _Mayday. MAYDAY._

Chloe snatched Beca's menu and tried to focus on what she was going to order. Her libido was getting harder and harder to control nowadays. Being alone in an apartment for hours without socializing was not helping.

 _Okay, okay. Flapjacks? Mm. Strawberry cheesecake pancakes.. Sound better than se-_

A small bump hit Chloe' shin, and she snapped out of her spiraling slightly-inappropriate thoughts. She tried to absorb herself back into the entree section until another soft tap was delivered to her leg.

 _ **Thump. Thump.**_

Just bumping. Chloe peeked over the list in curiosity, to find Beca bopping her head side to side to the beat of a different song on the speaker system and gazing out the window with avid interest. Chloe leaned back to peer under the table. Beca's legs were swinging back and forth to a tempo, a good four inches from the ground. The brunette obviously didn't notice the contact her shoes were making Chloe's leg. The agent suppressed a smile and decided not to comment.

 _At least not on that._

"Do you always avoid questions like that?"

Beca paused, still saying nothing.

"Because that's what friends do, Captain Approachable." Chloe took a swig from her coffee cup.

Beca's eyes widened, clearly enjoying the redhead's sass. "Oh, so we're friends now? You move fast."

 _ **Thump.**_

 _Ulgh. Impossible. But kicking seems to be a content thing._

Chloe snorted and sunk back behind the menu, taking her turn in seclusion.

The agent didn't know why she was so irked by Beca's avoidance. She was making it difficult on purpose, and that made zero sense to Chloe. She saw an invitation to breakfast as perfectly harmless. Sure, she was trying to infiltrate the brunette's entire business, and the club owner had to be used to it by now.

 _I'm not your first rodeo_.

Chloe glared through the appetizers. Some things are sacred. Like strawberry cheesecake pancakes. Beca's phone buzzed again, this time the smaller woman plucked it from the tabletop, and typed out a message with creased eyebrows.

 _Fine. If that's how she wants to play it._

Silence filled the booth. It almost suffocated Chloe, and she studied the combo specials so closely she would bet she could recite them from memory 20 years from now.

"Three years." Beca voiced clearly, setting the now silent phone back down.

 _ **Thump.**_

"Hm?" Chloe lowered the barrier, met with Beca's pensive expression. The brunette regarded at her with a cocked head and crossed arms. Amused.

And kind eyes.

 _ **Thump.**_

"I've owned it for three years. I moved out here to become a producer." Beca sighed and cupped the mug tighter. "But that dream kind of died. In a ditch." She took another deep sip.

 _Puppy is back. NOPE DOESN'T MATTER._

"What happened?" Chloe probed. Beca's phone lit up from the end of the table.

 _Someone's wanting you awful bad._

Beca shifted uneasily yet again, crossing her legs and skimming Chloe's outer thigh with the toe of her sneaker.

"Harder than I thought. Woke up one morning. Skint, broke."

 _..Is skint British? I think my cousin was skint once…_

"But eventually I got my shit together. Was offered a deal at the club I couldn't refuse at the time. Now I own it." She set the mug down with a faint "thud" and looked back out the window, licking her lips.

 _ **Thump.**_

 _Back to kicking. But.. Not enough._

"What was the offer?" Chloe probed yet again, feeling the thin ice of Beca's past she was standing on beginning to crack.

"Too much nose, Chlo." Beca warned, and pushed an empty mug away from her grasp. Her entire face seized at the word "offer".

 _Ooooh. Pet names._

"Well it must have been a pretty good deal to get you to give up on your dreams."

 _Oops._

She knew as soon as they left her mouth her words had visibly snapped something in Beca. The brunette's knuckles whitened on the sides of her mug.

"Like you can talk."

 _Shots fired._

"What are you doing here? People as pretty and smart as you don't end up here. This part of LA only has washed up child actors and drunk screenwriters." She set the cup down a little too harshly. "Plus, you're at the bar way too frequently to be happy with your job."

 _Someone's been making observations of her own._

Beca tapped her thumb on the rim. "So what's your deal. It's only fair. Question for a question."

 _True.._

Chloe knew Beca's responses were only expected for a perp under interrogation. To lash out and attack in order to drive attention away from herself. But there was a sting of truth to her words. The phone vibrated against the wood yet again, but this time close enough for Chloe to make out the small black letters.

 _ **L: Seriously. Where are you?**_

"Uhm.. My job.. is fine!" Chloe offered a hesitant smile, but the plastic feel of it was unconvincing on every level, even to herself.

"It's all I've ever wanted." She rushed, and winced at her words just as quickly. The screen of the device lit up again.

 _ **L: B. Is the list delivered?**_

 _List?_

Beca again avoided looking at the screen, but gave Chloe a look of scrutiny. "Uh huh." She tapped the sides of the mug teasingly. "Sounds like it."

"Hey!"

She held up her hands in defense. "Just saying. If it were a job I'd always wanted, I'd be a little more excited."

 _ **Thump.**_

Chloe began to draw comfort from the familiar tap of Beca's shoe. Like small assurances that the smaller girl was okay with the depth of the conversation unfolding. Another buzz.

 _ **L: I swear to god, Bec. If you don't answer this phone I will put a bullet in your brain.**_

 _Geez. Temper tantrum._

"Someone wants you bad." The agent joked, hoping she wouldn't have to witness a bloody massacre at the diner that day. Beca said nothing, but looked intently back at the redhead, expecting a reasonable response to her previous statement.

"Okay.. Well I guess the job is fine! It's just.. A lot of pressure." Chloe formed the words carefully in her mouth. Surprisingly, the truth was all that came out. Beca nodded slightly, a sign for Chloe to continue. "From a lot of people. The.. Firm. My mom.. My boss.. My partner.."

Beca choked on her most recent swallow of caramel macchiato.

But no choking when it comes to the possibility of being shot in the face?

"Partner..?" Beca spluttered, yet again trying to use her sleeves to try to clean up her mess.

 _Hopefully she has a Tide Stick handy._

Then It occurred to the agent they hadn't finalized the cover story for her employment as of yet.

 _Shit. What was it.. Teacher? Stripper.. Or.._

"Accountant!" Chloe equally spluttered back, shocking Beca. "Sorry, I'm an accountant." The redhead smiled apologetically.

 _Buzz._

 _ **L: Call me.**_

"Accounting is a two-man job?" Beca dabbed napkins at the table, soaking up the splatter.

"Uh, yeah! Two people at our firm."

 _ **Thump.**_

"Hm.."

"I just.. Love it less than I thought I would.." The words tumbled out of the junior agent's mouth before she could stop them. "And my mom hates that I.. Account.." She cringed at the word choice, but the emotion in the statement was truthful. Her thoughts reverted back to what Swanson had said.

 _All the best lies are rooted in truth._

Beca scoffed at her latest statement. "You'd think she'd be happy with the big check you're bringing home each month."

 _I wish._

"Oh. Yeah. It's not that.. A lot is expected and I don't know how to get there.. Lead.. Accounting."

 _ **Thump.**_

Beca scrunched her face in sincere confusion.

"I was going to teach music.." The redhead spilled, not understanding how it was so easy to talk to Beca. "But I went with.. financing. I guess I don't know if I should keep doing it? I thought the whole justice thing would make my life like, more fulfilling or something..?"

"Justice?"

 _Shit._

"You know. Catching all those tax evaders..?" She closed her eyes at the idiocy of her apparent question.

"Yeah. Riveting." Beca downed the ends of her coffee, and flashed a grin. "Did you like teaching?"

 _How did this entire conversation get so flipped back to me?_

"What?"

"Teaching. Did you like it?" Beca rephrased in Yoda speech. Her device rang.

 _Guess texts weren't enough._

Beca flipped the phone over on the desk, face down. Her entire focus on Chloe.

"Well, yeah I _loved_ it." Chloe began tearing the napkin she was holding into small pieces. A nervous habit she'd had since high school.

"I think that's your answer, bud."

"It's not that simple." Chloe began piecing the torn bits back into some semblance of a napkin square.

"If you say so." Beca faded off, obviously not going to pressure Chloe to reveal any further information than she was comfortable with. She picked up the relentless device, and typed a response Chloe regretted not being able to see.

"If I went back to teaching, everyone would be disappointed in me. Especially since I just convinced them to support be in.. Accounting. What would it look like? Leaving accounting as soon as I got a grip on it.." Something felt off about her statement, but she hoped the reality of her situation would overshadow it.

 _Okay, enough with the accounting metaphors, Jesus._

"I'm afraid.." Chloe whispered honestly, more to herself than anyone else. Beca relaxed into an expression of understanding. She reached across the table, and gently rested the crest of her hand over Chloe's knuckles. The redhead's skin set ablaze, and she tried to focus on keeping her cool.

 _Literally_.

Regardless, she felt tears well up in her eyes, and tried to not enjoy the cool touch of the brunette's slender fingers.

 _How in the hell did this happen? You are not the target!_

"Dude. If you're not afraid, you're not doing it right." Beca traced her thumb across the back of Chloe's freckled hand, and butterflies flooded her chest.

 _Get out. Make like the movie. And Get Out now._

"And if you're not happy.. Then why do it?" Chloe's heart felt like it fell into her butt. Beca's sincerity was rare but radiant. The agent felt like basking in it forever.

The pair sat quietly for a few minutes that seemed to last for years. And the worst part was-

 _She's totally right._

The fun had been sucked from Chloe's line of work. Living in an apartment alone, pretending to be someone she wasn't. Eating the same meals every day. Feeling like she was betraying all she came in contact with.

 _But worth it to catch those few shit bags who deserve it?_

Chloe gazed at Beca intently, who returned to staring out the damned window. Once in a while, she stroked her thumb in an upward motion, pimpling Chloe's skin.

 _You don't even know if she's trustworthy, Beale. She could be a fucking criminal. What are you doing?_

Chloe violently ripped her hand away from Beca's at the thought, panic rising to her throat. At the first sign of withdrawal, Beca's hands flew back to her lap. The brunette looked down in hinted hurt, chocolate curls obscuring her face.

 _Hasn't been a typical Wednesday unless you emotionally scar someone, eh, Beale?_

"My turn?" Chloe questioned in a squeak. Beca recovered her initial unamused physique, and leaned back with a shrug.

"Sure." She obviously just wanted to move away from the awkwardness of the previous moment.

"How tall are you?" Chloe moved the cups from the center of the table to the side, and set her face in her hands.

"Check, please!" Beca waved frantically at the waitress, who nodded across the dining area.

"We haven't even ordered our food yet!" Beca shot an infamous glare Chloe's way. "Really? It's that sensitive of a topic?" The smaller girl ignored her again, and pulled the light record envelope from her side into her lap.

"I saw your cute shoes dangling. How tall?" Chloe made a check under the table to ensure the distance was still as large as she remembered from the girl's shoes to the ground.

An angry huff rushed out of Beca's nose. " _Not cute."_

"Aw c'mon. I won't tell anyone! It's just for fun." She beamed, and tapped Beca's shoe with her own.

"Fun for _who_?" The club owner hopped from the booth down to the solid tile of the diner. "Where's the damned waitress when you need her?"

"Fun for me. Obviously." Chloe teased.

 _Could have a worse topic, Mitchell._

"I'll be right back." Beca snatched both of their empty cups and stalked toward the kitchen. Chloe's smile was stretched so far across her face it hurt. Until she heard another buzz. Beca had left her phone.

 _Nailed it._

Chloe craned her neck to ensure Beca was occupied at the kitchen's entrance, before reading the newest message.

 _ **L: ETA of drop in two minutes. Or else.**_

 _Ominous._

"Five foot one."

"God!" Chloe gasped, and turned her craning into a deliberate stretch.

 _Need to get her a damned bell to wear around her neck._

"Aa-at least you've cracked five foot!" Chloe chided, willing her heart rate to return to normal.

"Hilarious. Shouldn't you be slapping me in the face with a glove when you say that?" Beca scooted back into her side of the booth. She glanced at the message, and shook her head lightly as if someone had just cracked a ridiculously stupid joke.

"Don't be such a crybaby." Chloe squinted, noticing the now lack of record envelope in the paler girl's grasp. "I think it's adorable." The agent's voice quavered slightly.

"You're just jealous you don't get cheaper shoes." Beca rose again, this time digging through her pockets for something.

"Oh. My god. Seriously?"

 _Must be children's sizes! Ha!_

"I'm done talking about this!" Beca slammed more than enough money on the table, and stalked out of the diner, waving for Chloe to follow.

They had parted ways with a lingering handshake. Chloe had tried to go in for a hug, but the shorter girl had intercepted it with her hand. Still, the redhead took what she could get, and shook it vigorously with both hands, letting their grasp go on for far longer than necessary. Beca coughed awkwardly, saying something about needing her hand back, that and she needed to make a phone call, so she needed to go. Chloe grinned her gentlest smile, and handed Beca her card.

"Call me if you ever need anything. Even if it's just caffeine."

Beca gave her a thin-lipped smile, and shoved the card into her back pocket.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be rude. I just really have to go." Beca turned. "But it was nice having breakfast with you. Let me know if you want to borrow some records. Through me, you can get them for free instead of that record shop."

Chloe waved her goodbye, and crossed the street. A black SUV rounded the corner.

 _Stay back, dammit Jesse._

It was part of protocol for extraction to linger back until the full mission was completed.

 _Stupid ass SUV._

She signaled to her partner, and Swanson pulled next to a meter a few blocks down. The redhead glanced around to see where the club owner could have gone.

 _She's a fast little thing._

After following a couple of footpaths, Chloe heard the cadence of the shorter woman. Beca appeared to have doubled back down the alleyway next to the diner. The alley was narrow, not unlike the one they had found Ralph in. Chloe's heart plunged.

 _The killer could be anyone._

Beca had actually made a phone call, much to Chloe's surprise.

 _She's at least an honest criminal. Doesn't blow off on the first date._

She shook her head at whether or not what had just happened with Beca could be considered an actual "date."

 _Finally on call with the secret admirer._

Chloe crouched down and inched up behind a dumpster that lined the alley wall. She strained her neck to pick up anything the club owner was saying.

"-Having breakfast-" Beca was cut mid-sentence before she could continue.

"No one. Calm down. Jesus, Luke." Chloe's insides lurched at the crime ring leader's name.

 _Carren_.

"Yes. Like 50 minutes ago." Beca paced to the other side of the alley, flicking her thumb and ring finger together. "No. I wasn't followed. I'm not an idiot. I'll be at the office in ten. Just-"

 _Conversation's not over yet._

The brunette leaned against the dirty brick of the small space, setting the back of her head against the hard surface. "Has the world ended?" Beca snapped, and Chloe half smiled at her bite.

"Then I think it's fine." Beca lifted her head from the wall and, in a result to avoid being spotted, Chloe retreated further into the space between the dumpster and wall.

"She's no one."

 _Ouch._

"She's an _accountant_." More silence. "The list is intact."

 _Again with the list. Hallen & Oates style?_

"Be there soon." Silence. Chloe assumed the shorter woman had hung up.

 _Well at least the cover is sort of working._

Chloe settled down with a warm bowl of stir-fry leftovers onto the stiff couch in her apartment.

 _A vampire wouldn't be comfortable on this._

She spooned the dry mixture into her mouth, starved after updating Swanson on her excursion with the assignment that day. It was time to relax. Chloe pressed play on her recently purchased speaker system. She had begged Swanson to let her at least have her music. She would be good other than that. Follow orders to the T. Not harass Bumper. Just give her the music. After hours of incessant pouting, the male agent had obliged.

The speakers vibrated with playful piano notes she had seen Beca play on invisible keys earlier.

 _Finally. Set that shit on repeat._

She cradled the bowl over the bureau provided laptop, bopping her head from side to side. It was time to start recording her own personal account of today's objective. Progress was definitely made on a personal level, she didn't mean to brag, but it also appeared that Beca was conversing with Carren.

 _But how deep does the relationship go?_

IF the person on the other end of the phone was even Carren. There was no concrete evidence to suggest it was. The contact on her phone was merely listed as "L", it was as if Beca knew the tracks she was covering.

 _Still have no idea what kind of criminal she is._

But there was definite suspicious behavior? Right? She was involved in criminal activity? Though there's nothing illegal with dropping off a record envelope.

 _Depends on what's inside the envelope, Beale._

Chloe picked up the small black remote to the speakers and turned the music down to a lower level. She opened the program to start recording the details her mission when a large box populated with the image of an over-sexualized picture. An overweight blonde's request to video chat flooded the window. Chloe rolled her eyes playfully at the inappropriate photo.

 _Amy._

She clicked the small green button to receive the video chat.

"Should I be concerned about the picture you got going-" Chloe started, commenting on the salaciousness of Amy's profile.

"Oi! Long time no speaking, Ginger!" Amy curtly interrupted.

The Australian was in a backyard of some sort that was soaked in sun. She dawned a pair of designer shades and a red and blue swimsuit. Whatever device was capturing her end of the chat had to be propped up on the side of a pool, because Amy was bobbing up and down in a crocodile shaped floaty. A cold martini was in her hand, and a few men were in her background playing chicken. Chloe wasn't at all shocked to what was considered a normal Wednesday night for her coworker. A man in the deep end of the pool let out a horrifying shriek that caused Amy to spill some of her drink into the water.

"PAUL! Maybe stop acting like your balls have been melted off and pipe down back there, right?!" Amy stared down at the water, more upset that the alcohol was gone rather than the pool tainted.

Chloe didn't know how to respond to that.

"Oookay… So to what do I owe this pleasure, Amy?" She tilted the screen forward a tad.

Amy brushed off her question with a pull of her drink. "Do you reckon that storm that's where you are will be coming up my way anytime soon? I can feel it in my leg hair. But I don't want to have to send my boyfriends home, you know?"

Chloe blinked rapidly, attempting to keep up with the blonde's antics.

"Um.." She started lightly.

"Yeah, no. I get it. Unnecessary details." Amy set her drink on the side of the pool, and spun around lightly in the floaty. "But, I do have some information that'll fry even your ginger brain."

"Today, Amy." Chloe leaned forward and set her bowl of stir-fry on the IKEA coffee table. Anything for Amy to have actually put effort into might mean something good.

"Fine. Fine. Don't get your panties in a bunch." Amy drifted closer to the edge of the pool, and slid her sunglasses down her nose to peer at the web camera.

"I had a certain conversation involving my sexy fat ass and a certain homicide detective for certain information regarding certain boneable assignments you may or may not have.."

Chloe looked dumbfounded.

"I slept with Bumper and got the deets on your club whore."

Chloe gasped. "Ew! No!" The Australian belly laughed and flashed the camera her pearly whites. "Amy PLEASE tell me you didn't solicit sex to get more intel from Bumper."

"I guess they aren't deets exactly." Amy swirled a small pink umbrella around in her drink. "Swanson called and said Bumper was being the usual deranged garden gnome he is, and I just helped him along."

"You're disgusting." Chloe shook her head, swearing she could feel what little of the stir fry surface.

 _Oompa Loompa sex. Ulgh._

Amy didn't seem to mind, and licked the end of the umbrella. "We didn't go all the way. Just a lot of tongue. And blowing."

The junior agent audibly gagged.

"Not that kind of blowing." Chloe could only stare. "Okay maybe a smidge of that blowing. But if it's good for both of us I call it a win win win. Win."

"A win win win win win." Chloe repeated.

"Weren't you listening it's four wins." Amy scoffed. "It's like winning for all sides. With more rug burns." The Australian extended her leg in an attempted graceful movement.

Chloe grimaced slightly. "I SO don't want to know." Her curiosity got the best of her. "So what'd you find out?"

"Oh. Yeah." Amy squinted into the sunlight as if recalling something from years ago. "Soo he actually said nothing about your dwarf. When he was actually talking. Which.. Wasn't much."

 _STIRFRY. BAD._

"But I did get a picture of the ME report of that dead guy. And something else I'm pretty sure." She finished nonchalantly.

"Amy! That's a federal offense!" Chloe gasped.

"Everything I do is offensive, Ginger." Amy cordially flipped Chloe off as the floaty turned around in a current as if to prove her point. The crocodile rotated the larger woman around in a slow 360 arc until her back faced the camera.

"Still! I can't not report you?! What were you thin-"

"I sent the photos to your work email so good luck convincing the investigators you weren't involved, Ginge." Chloe's mouth gaped open. Amy finally had rotated enough to be facing the camera. "I do love when you make that face. Like a roofied clownfish. You know I know an aboriginal who's very into that kind of thing." Chloe's jaw basically unhinged itself at the rest of Amy's audacity.

"Or not. I know you're dipping in the aisle of Lesbos recently, but if you ever need a night of fish bliss.." Chloe could have swallowed a watermelon. "No? Your loss." The blonde shrugged and chugged the rest of her drink.

Paul appeared to call to the Australian from the background. "Looks like I'm needed to be the Jell-O shot commissioner. Have fun with the file. Keep it in your Ginger shorts, right?"

The screen went dark and Amy disconnected the call.

 _Of course._

Chloe sat for a moment as if recovering from a religious experience until she pulled the laptop to her and began navigating to her work email.

 _I'll just delete it. It's not my jurisdiction. I don't need any trouble. It's fine. Everything's fine._

Chloe used the remote to turn the piano music back up on her speakers. The downbeats of the percussion accompaniment shaking her home. Chloe loved when she could physically feel music. Just like at Locked. Yet again forgetting her task, she moved the laptop onto the table next to her bowl and leaned back to relax. The music filled her stringent home, and it felt like it wasn't so empty.

 _ **BANG BANG BANG**_

"Ulgh. Jesse." The memory of the other night when Swanson had interrupted her peaceful slumber flashed through her mind.

 _No. He didn't interrupt. There was a dead body._

Her heart panged, but she stood to answer the door. She slid the deadbolt back, and peered into the hallway to greet her partner with a particularly salty remark.

"Hi."

She didn't get the chance.

A tall blonde woman had greeted her bluntly, and was now leaning toward the narrow opening as if she was suspicious of something. She was dressed in color-coordinated pajamas that had purple flowers littered all over them. Her hair was in a tight ponytail, and her lips were pursed even tighter. She stood with her hands on her hips and an expectant expression.

"..Hi?" Chloe didn't know why but she was slightly afraid of the woman in front of her.

"I'm your next-door neighbor. And though your music choice is acceptable, the volume is not." The blonde reached back and tightened her ponytail, also tied together with a purple band. "It's at least 30 decibels above the appropriate level. It's Wednesday night. Some of us have work in the morning. If you could kindly turn it down, I'd appreciate it."

 _Conversational business transaction. My favorite._

"Oh! Yes of course! Sorry!" Chloe figured there was no point in reasoning with an ox.

"It's fine." The blonde inched closer to the door opening. "Actually it's not, seeing as only insane people would crank music that loud this late, but I've had worse."

 _Wonder what qualifies as "worse."_

The blonde was practically nose to nose with her now, staring her down. "What's your name?"

Chloe shuffled through her mental files to provide the enforcer with some sort of answer.

"Ch-Chloe. I'm Chloe." It wasn't the space invasion Chloe was uncomfortable with, but the fact that the blonde would become suspicious of her op.

"Hi Chloe. You seem nice. Usually I welcome each new tenant, but they've stopped posting names and apartment numbers on the board downstairs." The woman took Chloe's hand and shook it aggressively.

 _Weird handshake quota has officially been met for the day._

" So. Welcome to the complex." The blonde nodded once, and turned to leave. Chloe felt like she couldn't move, as if she was being bombarded with a tidal wave of information.

Her neighbor made it about halfway down the hall until she turned on her heel. "You're invited to my house tomorrow night for dinner at seven. Invite someone if you must. Business casual."

 _Recon tomorrow, Beale. Recon plans!_

"Oh! I don't know-"

The blonde would have none of it.

"I'll see you there. My name is Aubrey." And the tall woman took off down the hall without another word.


End file.
